The Price of the Wish
by Robert2
Summary: Cordelia thinks before she wishes, but not deeply enough. She returns to the day Buffy first arrived, confident her foreknowledge will guarantee a perfect life, only to find events slowly spiralling downwards as new enemies stir the darkness.
1. Cordelia's Wish: The Wish

#### Bristow's demon index, page 205 

  
"Anyanka, patron demoness of scorned women:

This demoness embodies the spirit of self-defeating vengeance. She grants her victims their most vindictive wish, but the evil they desire is then turned upon them. No good can come of Anyanka's aid, only despair and damnation. 

Her name first became known in 1207, but she is reliably thought to have been active for decades before then. After considering evidence from the surviving records of the Knights Templar, all omens observed during the relevant time period and the boasts of Anyanka herself, on those occasions when she has been cornered, the following conclusions have been reached concerning her origins.

Anyanka was once a human girl, born in France sometime during the 9th century. She was courted by the son of a local nobleman, but soon discovered his fine words were but a cloak to hide his pursuit of carnal pleasures. When he greeted her ambitions of honest marriage with derision she was filled with a blinding rage. Unable, because of her lowly status, to obtain redress through legal means, she turned to the dark arts in pursuit of revenge, inflicting upon her unfortunate seducer all the torments her mortal mind could imagine. Her rage was so great, hell itself echoed to the sound of her fury. The infernal powers, amused by her petty malice, chose to offer her immortality in their service. 

The precise terms of the bargain she struck are not known, but it is thought that, in exchange for the loss of her mortal soul, she was offered a chance to help any women who, as Anyanka had been, were treated with utter contempt by the men they loved. However, all the gifts of hell are poisoned. The spirit of her bargain was betrayed even as she made it. Without her human soul, Anyanka lost all understanding of morality and readily accepted a perversion of her original mission. She was given the power to grant the wishes of scorned women, but with a catch. While her aid would appear beneficial on the surface, it would always poison the lives of her victims.

Nothing good can be built on hell tainted foundations. So it is with Anyanka's wishes. After one brief moment of sweet revenge, all the fruits of victory are found to be maggot-ridden. The victim can gain no lasting satisfaction from her wish, and ill-fortune will dog her all her days. She becomes a nexus of malign probabilities similar in nature to, though of much lesser magnitude than, the mystical convergence characteristic of an active hellmouth. None of Anyanka's victims have ever lived happy lives. Some few have even died as a result of their wish, or been driven to suicide.

Anyanka's human soul was placed, without her knowledge, in the gem she calls her power centre. Her victims must touch this gem to make their wishes, but otherwise she keeps it with her. While the gem is intact Anyanka can not truly die but if it is destroyed, her soul will return to its body, rendering her mortal again, and negating the last wish granted. Since this may be one of the signs that the last days are upon us, it is recommended that this should not be done unless absolutely necessary.

For a fuller account of Anyanka, her history and her powers, see Dramius, Volume XLVI, pages 876-924."

Written by retired Watcher, Samuel Bristow, 1825 AD

* * *

Cordelia began to speak, then hesitated. This was the hellmouth, where weird things always happened. People became invisible just because they were ignored, which really hadn't been her fault. It would be just like the hellmouth to have her wish come true, which should be fun for her. Xander would suffer, of course, but he deserved it. Perhaps Anya's lucky charm might actually be magic, or some invisible fairy might be listening, or something. This deserved a moment's thought, just in case her wish worked. 

She had been about to wish Buffy had never come, things would have been so much nicer then, but was that really the best she could do? Without Buffy, she'd still be popular today, still have the adoration she deserved, and she wouldn't have been involved in all those icky things. She would never have known the monsters were real, never been afraid. Life had been so much nicer when she hadn't known what terrors lurked in the dark.

But the monsters were real. Her hometown was built on the mouth of hell. Monsters walked its streets, plotting the destruction of the world, and only Buffy could stop them.. Xander put up a brave show, but without Buffy he'd have been dead within weeks, and that would be no fun at all. She didn't want him dead; she wanted to watch him suffer. And besides, without Buffy, she'd probably be the bride of Frankenstein right now.

Everything had gone wrong since Buffy arrived, but without her it might have been even worse, if things could get any worse than this. If only she could live the last two years over again, without making any mistakes, then she could have the perfect world she deserved.

Cordelia smiled. That was it, the perfect wish. It probably wouldn't work, but it would be nice if it did. 

"Everything has gone wrong since Buffy arrived. I wish I could live it all again, but better".

Anya looked puzzled.

"I'd know what was going to happen, so I could make everything go right for me and wrong for Xander. I'd make him love me, then dump him and humiliate him. I'd know all their secrets so I'd be able make all his friends reject him, leaving him miserable and completely alone."

As Anya listened, she began to smile. Cordelia didn't notice. Lost in the vision of the perfect world she could create, she had forgotten Anya was even there.

"Everything would be just horrible for him, but perfect for me. I'd even be able to play the big hero. I'd make myself saviour of the world, and Buffy could be my sidekick. It would be wonderful."

Cordelia fell silent, her face glowing with joy at the thought.

"Done!" Anya shouted, her face suddenly hideous.

In a blinding flash of light, the school vanished. 


	2. Cordelia's Wish: Back to the start

Cordelia blinked. What had happened? Where was she? She was lying in a bed, but where? It almost looked like her bedroom, but that was last year's wallpaper. Could her wish have actually come true?

She rushed straight to the mirror. Yes, she definitely looked younger, and the scar from that awful injury had gone. She pulled open a drawer, took out her diary, and checked the date of the last entry: Sunday the 9th of March, 1997. Today must be the tenth; the day she had first met Buffy. Her wish really had come true. Anya must have been a good fairy. This would be such fun.

Cordelia glanced at her clock: 7:30 AM, not long before she would need to leave for school. Soon she could start to work on her revenge. What should she wear? She couldn't remember exactly what had been fashionable two years ago, but being two years ahead might be a bit daring. After a moment though, she shrugged. no one would dare question her fashion choices..

Once dressed, she looked through her diary trying to remind herself what the current gossip was. Soon she was smiling, amused by how trivial it now seemed. For most of the last year she'd had much more important things to think about than who was dating who. She'd never quite stopped paying attention to the social scene but it had fallen into second place, especially after she started dating Xander. When Angel was haunting her nightmares, it seemed a little silly to be worrying about the right shade of lipstick. She had tried not to let her reputation slip — there wouldn't have been any point fighting if she didn't have a life worth defending — but when she had thought she had found real friends she had felt less need to hide her loneliness in a crowd.

Cordelia knew she deserved mass adoration, but compliments from people she cared about had proven as nice. Buffy's company had been nicer than Harmony's could ever be, but now she knew none of them had ever really been her friends. Real friends would not have betrayed her; they would have sided with her. Xander had just been using her, and after all she had gone through for him. How long had they been sneaking round behind her back?

Cordelia pulled her thoughts back to the present day. She'd get nowhere by mulling over past injustices; past, even though they hadn't happened yet. This whole time travel business was going to be very confusing. She knew much of what was going to happen, but she couldn't let anyone know she knew. Giles would probably object to her changing things and Xander would certainly be furious if he found out about her plans for revenge.

Besides, if she told them anything, they'd do everything differently and she'd lose her advantage. She did want to change things, but she needed to be in control of the changes.

What changes did she want to make? She supposed she could always do nothing, just try and stay out of trouble, but that seemed like a waste of her wish, and might not even be possible. It would be the easiest way to keep her popularity, but Marcie and Chris would still come after her, so she would still have to mix with Buffy and her loser friends. She'd probably get dragged into other weird things as well; she couldn't really stand by and let people die, not when she knew what was going on, not when she knew their names. Willow and Ms Calendar would have died on prom night without her, and she couldn't let that happen. Nor was that the only time she'd saved lives.

Of course, that had mostly been luck; she was no Buffy, just an amateur. Saving the world was Buffy's job, not hers. They had never really needed her. Being involved had brought heartbreak and almost death, though there were a few pleasant memories too. Others had been less lucky; Jenny had died because she knew Buffy. That was why Cordelia had avoided the weird stuff ever since the accident, until she'd been tempted by the chance of a wish.

Now though, she did have a special gift. She could make a difference. She could use her knowledge of the future to save the lives of those who Buffy had not been able to save, like Ms Calendar. Her eyes opened wide with sudden realisation; she could even keep Angel from ever losing his soul. She would have to be involved to do that.

Besides, if she didn't get involved in the weird stuff, she wouldn't be able to get her revenge on Xander and Willow.

What did she want to do to Xander? He deserved to suffer. She remembered the words of her wish, 'make all his friends reject him, leaving him miserable and completely alone,' and smiled. First, she would make friends with them all. Next, she'd trick Xander into falling out with both Buffy and Willow, so that she was the only friend he had left. Finally she would find some excuse to dump Xander, leaving him humiliated and completely friendless. The sooner she started the better. Perhaps she could get to Xander before he fell for Buffy. She might even be able to stop Buffy from falling for Angel. She should start today.

No time like the present, she thought, and laughed.

What were the problems? She'd have to hang with Willow, which would be bad for her reputation, but revenge was more important; revenge, and the chance to make the world better. Willow wasn't bad company either, despite her odd priorities. Cordelia could tolerate her for a few months while she set up Xander's punishment, then arrange something suitably humiliating for Willow.

She'd try her best to keep her status, but it would be difficult. She'd have to hide her involvement with Buffy from Harmony, and her knowledge of the future from Buffy without getting confused about who knew what.

If she had to make a choice, well, dumping Harmony would earn her major points with Willow and Xander, making it easier to punish them. Besides, she'd still be able to get her place at the top back whenever she wanted it. Harmony would never be more than a nuisance; never be able to stop Cordelia from regaining her rightful status.

She'd also have to be careful not to give her secret away. She wasn't quite the same person she had been eighteen months ago, which was only yesterday, but would anyone notice the change? Giles and Buffy had never met her before, so they wouldn't be able to notice anything odd. Xander might, but he would be easily fooled. Willow would be the hardest person to trick but, as long as Cordelia was subtle, Willow wouldn't be able to prove anything. She'd just have to try not to sound too knowledgeable, but Xander hadn't told her everything that had happened in Buffy's first few months, so she shouldn't have any problems acting surprised.

Cordelia glanced at her clock. 8:37 AM. She was going to be late for school. She dashed out of her room. At least she would still be in time for second period, when she had met Buffy.

* * *

Cordelia could barely believe it. Buffy had sat down next to her without even a flicker of recognition, more confirmation that she really had gone back in time. In just a few moments she would be rewriting history, for the better. This was wonderful. She didn't even have to bother listening to the teacher. She already knew it all. Cordelia smiled broadly, and watched Buffy.

"If you'll look at the map on page 63," the teacher said, "you can trace the spread of the disease into Rome."

Seeing Buffy frantically looking for a textbook, Cordelia offered to share hers. Buffy smiled gratefully, looking almost pathetically pleased. She seemed so young and innocent; Cordelia would never have guessed that the world rested on those shoulders.

The bell rang, and they stood up to leave.

"Hi. I'm Cordelia," she said, smiling, "and you must be Buffy."

What should she say next? She needed to sound like someone Buffy could like, without sounding like she knew too much. She'd have to lie too, something she always preferred to avoid, but she didn't have much choice. Perhaps she should try and stick close to what she had said the first time, if she could remember it. "You're from LA, right? I'd kill to live so close to that many shoes."

Buffy seemed slightly amused and began to speak, but Cordelia ploughed straight on. "I heard you had to leave because you'd burnt down a gym full of, um, rats".

Cordelia had almost slipped then, but Buffy couldn't have noticed. It would be best to change the subject though. "If you're looking for a textbook of your very own, there's probably a few in the library. I'll show you the way."

Buffy followed Cordelia as she headed towards the library.

"Seen the librarian yet?" Cordelia asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No, first day, remember."

She didn't know Giles was her watcher yet then. So many secrets, and only Cordelia knew them all. She smiled. Why not give Buffy a hint? "He's English. Lovely accent, but no style. Just started here."

Buffy looked nervous for a moment, then feigned indifference. Odd, Cordelia had thought Buffy would be pleased at meeting a possible watcher.

"Not like you," Cordelia said. "You've got style. But then, LA. You can skip the coolness test."

Buffy smiled. "Great. I hate tests."

"If you hang with me and mine you'll be accepted in no time," Cordelia added with a reassuring smile. That had sounded friendly, but Buffy wasn't looking too impressed. Cordelia groaned inwardly. By trying to sound normal, she'd ended up sounding shallow.

She looked around, trying to think of the best words, and spotted Willow. A few compliments here would make her look better to Buffy, and get her on the right side of Willow. Of course, since she didn't want to make Willow suspicious she'd have to be careful not to sound too friendly, but that wouldn't be a problem. Willow had stolen Xander's heart; she didn't deserve Cordelia's friendship.

"Hi, Willow," Cordelia said, nudging Buffy towards her, "This is Buffy. She's new."

Willow started babbling apologies and began to move away, but Cordelia grabbed her by the shoulder. She had forgotten how nervous Willow had once been. Fighting dark forces had really done wonders for her self-esteem, which was a mixed blessing. It had made her more useful to Buffy; it had also given her the confidence to seduce Xander.

"Willow's a lovely person," Cordelia said, with as much conviction as she could muster, "and the teachers think she's a genius, but hanging with her is social death. Just look at her clothes. Does that bother you?"

Cordelia looked at Buffy, who seemed quite embarrassed. Buffy began to speak, but Cordelia interrupted. She already knew Buffy well, so there was no point listening to her. Cordelia decided to continue complimenting Willow. She began speaking quietly, not wanting to be overheard.

"I do hope not. Willow is much better company than any of my sheep, despite her flaws," Cordelia said, carefully smirking just enough not to make Willow suspicious. "Mass adoration is nice but real friendship is better, if you can find trustworthy friends. I'm getting a little tired of being worshipped. Besides, being popular is hard work, and I'm sure Buffy has other hobbies to keep her busy."

Noticing that Willow was starting to look confused, Cordelia reviewed her last few words. There was nothing in them that should puzzle Willow, so it must be the unusually friendly tone. "I'm not just saying that because I'm frightened you could be competition either," Cordelia quickly added, before Willow could get suspicious.

It was the literal truth, though Cordelia knew it wouldn't be believed, but it should explain the subtle changes in her behaviour to Willow. She might be quite smart, but Willow didn't understand people well enough to see through Cordelia.

"Willow might have less fashion sense than the average corpse but she'll be a real help with your homework. She's a skilled hacker and amateur wi-, um, bitch. You could trust her with your life, but not your boyfriend. I'm sure she'd be a loyal friend to you, most of the time."

Cordelia paused thoughtfully. Watching her words was beginning to make her nervous and she was running out of compliments for Willow; best to cut the conversation short before she said too much. "Come on, Buffy. We've got to get you to the library."

Cordelia began to pull Buffy further along the corridor but before she could get away Willow spoke up, sounding annoyed. "Bitch? I've never, I mean, when have I — boyfriends?"

Cordelia smiled. It was good to see Willow showing a spark of self-confidence, even if it left her in an awkward position. She tried to think of something Willow had already done. "I was trying to save something in computer class. You said 'deliver', so I pressed delete."

Willow smiled briefly, then looked puzzled.

"But I didn't," Willow protested.

Cordelia winced. She'd been sure that had already happened. She turned to Buffy and said dismissively, "She's repressing. Now let's go. You can talk to her at lunch."

* * *

"This is the library," Cordelia announced. "I've got to go now, but I'll see you in gym, and at the Bronze tonight."

"The Bronze?" Buffy asked.

"It's the only club worth going to in Sunnydale. It's in the bad part of town."

"Where's that?"

"A block from the good part of town. We don't have a whole lot of town. I'll tell you more in gym, after you tell me absolutely everything there is to know about you."

Buffy looked panicked, nodded vaguely, and stepped into the library, muttering under her breath.

Cordelia watched Buffy step through the library doors, wishing she could eavesdrop. She didn't want to disrupt Buffy's first meeting with Giles, but she'd almost kill to see it.

Instead, she sighed and walked away, towards her next class

Soon, she began to smile. Everything was going just as she'd planned. Everyone had been completely fooled, and she'd begun to work her way into Buffy's circle. She hadn't even had to lie much, not technically, but Cordelia couldn't fool herself. She had been dishonest, if only out of necessity. She wasn't scrupulously honest, but she had never liked lying; particularly not to people whose opinions she valued. If she wasn't honest with them, why would they be honest with her? It would be best to stick quite close to the literal truth. It might be technically dishonest, but it felt better than outright lies.

* * *

Halfway to her next class Cordelia paused. Someone was screaming, over by the gym — not that unusual, but it tickled a memory. Hadn't Aura found a dead body in her locker?

She needed to check. If she knew what was going on, she would feel safer, because she'd know what precautions to take. She might also be able to impress Buffy with her perceptiveness. Smiling, she hurried towards the screams.

Twenty seconds later, Cordelia stepped into the locker room and looked around. Half a dozen girls were cowering against the far wall. Aura was screaming hysterically but no-one was trying to calm her. The other girls all seemed to be on the edge of panic themselves. No teachers had arrived yet, so she would have to take command.

"Aura, take deep breaths and think about shopping. Remember, it's just a dead body. It can't hurt you. And you five, stop whimpering. Go and find a teacher."

The third period had just started, so all the teachers would be shut in their rooms. It would be a few moments before anyone arrived. Cordelia watched the girls leave, then turned to look at the body. She didn't recognise him, but he didn't look much older than her. If she wanted to know more she might need to touch it.

Did she really want to do that? Perhaps she could just tell Buffy about it, as she originally had. That wouldn't do anything for her image though. Before her role in Buffy's gang had been little more than that of Xander's girl, making it easy for them to drop her when Xander did. That had been fine before, but this time her needs were different. This time she would need to take a less peripheral role, making herself indispensable. She couldn't reveal her foreknowledge, but a willingness to get her hands dirty would certainly help. After all, Buffy was technically a necrophiliac and neither Willow nor Xander were strangers to the morgue. The more she seemed to have in common with them the easier it would be to position herself in the centre of their group, where she needed to be.

It had only taken Cordelia a few seconds to decide it would be useful to examine the corpse. She took three deep breaths then knelt on the floor beside it. Now that she was closer, she could see he had a large bite mark on his neck. She smiled, relieved it was something as normal as a vampire. Dealing with an unfamiliar weirdness while she was still adjusting to the result of her wish might have been a little too challenging.

She laughed, amused at her own thoughts. There weren't many people who thought of vampires as normal, but then she was no longer precisely normal herself; her little wish had made her almost as freakish as Willow. Cordelia took a second look at the corpse. There was no sure way of telling if it would rise but blood on its mouth would be a bad sign. Her hands trembling, she reached out to nudge the corpse so she could check.

"Cordelia?" Aura interrupted, "What're you doing?"

Cordelia frowned. She had forgotten Aura was still present. She stood and turned to face her. Aura was still pale with shock but she had stopped screaming. Cordelia decided to avoid the question since Aura would soon repress everything odd anyway.

"Good," Cordelia said instead. "You've calmed down. Let's get out of here."

Cordelia gently ushered Aura out of the locker room and had her lean against the corridor wall. Moments later, Principal Flutie ran round the corner. As he began, rather ineffectually, to take charge of the situation, Cordelia lost herself in nostalgia. Flutie had been such a nice principal, so much better than the odious Snyder. Half daydreaming, Cordelia went along with Flutie's inept instructions while imagining how she would save his life.

He soon dismissed her, telling her she would be allowed to miss the rest of her classes that day, because of the shock. She was free to do anything she liked; she could even go home.

* * *

Cordelia quickly ate her lunch alone. She needed to be free to interact with Buffy, so she didn't want to get entangled with her followers, but she couldn't eat with Willow's group this soon either. Much as she hated being alone, she needed to make some sacrifices.

The moment she had finished, she walked over to find Buffy. She soon saw her, sat outside with Willow, Xander and Jesse. Hadn't he died tonight? Talking to Jesse was going to be awkward.

Cordelia paused, trying to remember what he had been like; what they had all been like. Jesse had had a hopeless crush on her but she had barely noticed him. From what little she could remember, he had just been a poor copy of Xander. Keeping him alive would be her first challenge but Cordelia was sure she could manage. She had already got the measure of Willow, when they had met in the corridor earlier that day. Willow wouldn't be a problem. Finally Cordelia's eyes turned to Xander, and she groaned.

Xander was talking to Buffy, his every gesture radiating lust. It was already too late to stop Xander noticing her. Buffy had certainly worked fast. Xander looked younger and softer now than when she had last seen him. He didn't look brave enough to face down even a young vampire, let alone walk into the Master's lair. Still, she knew what potential he had, and how shapely a body was hidden under those ugly clothes.

Cordelia tilted her head slightly, thinking. She was still slightly fond of Xander, despite his betrayal. She had loved him for nearly a year. That couldn't just be forgotten overnight, no matter what Willow had made him do. It was difficult to recall exactly what she had felt about him eighteen months earlier, but she supposed she had always been vaguely attracted to him. That was probably why he loomed so large in her memories of these days. He might have been a complete loser with no dress sense, which was why she had never consciously considered him before she got involved with Buffy's gang, but he was witty, charming and decent too.

Cordelia had sometimes even found herself almost looking forward to his insults. Compliments were easy to come by, and mostly empty, but Xander's insults had made her feel alive. No-one else had ever done that, until Buffy had arrived. She had often felt like a ghost, all surface and no substance, but Xander had made her feel real. There had been no romance in their spats, but there had been passion. Xander had been the only fire that could warm her soul, that could fill her with life.

It might have been a little unhealthy to have been so enamoured of insults, but he had been the only one who had seen beyond her surface. Even his hatred had been better than having no-one who cared about the real Cordelia. Her parents had never really cared and her fellow students had only seen her surface, but Xander had always been able to touch her soul, even when she hated him.

As Cordelia looked at Xander and remembered happier times, she realised it would not be easy to hurt him in cold blood. She had been quite angry when she had made her wish but now she'd had time to calm down she was having second thoughts. Cordelia had never been that malicious, and Xander was quite cute.

Cordelia did deserve revenge though. The memory of her humiliation should give her the willpower to go through with her plot. She had to befriend Buffy's gang anyway, if she was going to be able to save lives, so she might as well start with that, then see what happened. Xander definitely should pay for his crime but she would have months to think of a method less troublesome to her conscience. If she couldn't find such a punishment for him, she would always be able to fall back on her original plan.

Cordelia smiled. Perhaps, when Xander had suffered enough, she could accept him back, at least if he learnt to be properly respectful of her dignity.

Cordelia walked towards Buffy, listening to the conversation.

"Pepper spray is so passé," Buffy said defensively.

So Buffy hadn't told anyone about her secret yet. Cordelia frowned slightly. That would make conversation trickier. Cordelia sat down between Buffy and Willow. She decided to throw Xander a couple of compliments before she got down to business. If they thought she'd fallen for him it would be easier to join their circle and she'd be able to get a little pleasure from him before she dumped him. She'd just have to be careful not to move too fast.

"Buffy, you're doing well," Cordelia said, smiling insincerely. "You've been in school three hours and you've already got two wonderful friends. Xander may be a dumb loser with ugly clothes but he is also charming, witty and brave. Those two are the two nicest people in this school, after me."

"Xander can't be your boyfriend though," Cordelia added hastily, before Buffy got the wrong idea. "He's already got two girls chasing him. He doesn't need a third."

Cordelia noticed a confused look on Xander's face, then realised she had forgotten about Jesse. "Oh, and Jesse's adequate too."

Xander began speaking, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "To what to we owe the privilege of this visit, O Queen C? There are no mirrors here."

"Obviously," Cordelia retorted, "Nobody would ever wear your clothes if they'd ever been near a mirror. No, I'm here to tell Buffy gym's been cancelled due to the extreme dead guy in the locker."

"Dead?" Buffy asked, sounding concerned.

"Totally dead. Way dead. And - " Cordelia replied.

Xander interrupted. "So, not just a little dead then."

Cordelia smiled at his wit, then continued speaking. "He's got a great big bite mark on his neck, probably rats. I know doctors can work miracles, but he's permanently dead."

Buffy was looking interested.

"Rats? On campus?" Willow said, sounding worried.

"The cafeteria's been serving some very small chicken legs," Xander said, smiling suggestively.

Willow looked disgusted but Cordelia just ignored him.

"What else might be on school grounds that would bite people in the neck?" she said, deliberately not looking at Buffy. Trying to sound thoughtful, Cordelia continued, "I've never seen a corpse before. It was … odd, quite a shock."

"That why you're sitting next to Willow?" Xander asked.

Cordelia winced. She hadn't thought about that but had just acted out of habit. Still, the supposed shock would explain it. She'd just have to be more careful about her body language in future. Before she could reply Jesse spoke, sounding concerned.

"If you want a shoulder to cry on," he began, then leeringly added, "or to nibble on…"

Cordelia looked at Jesse, trying to decide how to treat him. He was going to die tonight, unless she could save him. She'd do her best, but she wasn't sure how he'd originally died, and she didn't have much time to think of a plan. She was confident she would soon be rewriting history as she saw fit, but right now she was just a beginner. Jesse might still die tonight and he didn't even know he was in any danger.

Cordelia stood up and gently ruffled Jesse's hair. "Tomorrow perhaps. Just don't let me find your corpse in my locker, ever. See you guys."

Cordelia walked briskly away from Buffy's group, heading for the library. She wanted to hear what Buffy would say about the corpse and accidentally overhearing that conversation might be a good excuse for her knowing weird stuff.

* * *

Cordelia quietly opened the library doors. The place looked the same as it always had, dim, musty and dull, not at all like she would have imagined the headquarters of a superhero to be. Giles was stood facing the shelves, doing librarian things. She crept past him, went upstairs, and hid herself in the rearmost aisle, after checking the shelves. None of the books were occult though, just dull tomes about ancient history.

Leaning against a bookcase, Cordelia waited patiently for Buffy to come in.

Afer a few minutes she stiffened. Someone had just entered the library, and they were heading her way. She listened nervously as the footsteps got closer then sighed in relief. The person had gone into the next aisle. She picked up a book and peeked through the gap to see who it was, then smiled.

It was Xander. He was standing there, looking at textbooks. Unusual, Willow had probably forced him in here, which must have been how Xander had found out about Buffy the first time round. He'd accidentally put himself in an ideal position for eavesdropping.

As Cordelia was putting the book back on the shelf she heard Buffy's voice drift up. She couldn't quite catch every word, but Buffy was speaking loudly enough for Cordelia to get the gist of the conversation. To her surprise Buffy was claiming she didn't care about the vampires. That couldn't be true. If it was, she would have ignored the evidence completely, but here she was, telling Giles the bad news.

Buffy had always seemed so devoted to her duty; she was always there when evil threatened, and she hardly ever complained about the effects on her social life.

Cordelia would never have guessed Buffy had ever been reluctant to be the slayer, but she could clearly hear her trying not to get involved in weirdness. She sounded quite bitter about it, almost whiney. Cordelia remembered how Buffy had claimed she had once been popular, before she was chosen, and felt a brief pang of sympathy. Cordelia could easily imagine herself in Buffy's shoes; she would not have enjoyed being chosen. It had been a year though; Buffy should have accepted her destiny by now.

It sounded as though the conversation had moved into the corridor. Cordelia decided to sneak out of the library before Giles could get back. She didn't want to get stuck in there for half the afternoon; she needed to go shopping.

"What!"

Cordelia recognised Xander's voice, sounding understandably shocked. She quickly stepped up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Interesting conversation," she said calmly, "but I don't think we want them to know we overheard."

* * *

Cordelia tugged Xander out of the library and into the nearest broom closet. He seemed to be too shocked to put up any resistance, probably because of what he had just heard. Cordelia smiled. Seeing Xander in a closet had so many pleasant associations for her, despite his eventual treachery. Xander blinked and stood up straight, looking annoyed.

"You forgotten your pills today?" he shouted, then in a quieter voice added, "I don't know who seems crazier, you or Buffy. Willow said you were acting weird this morning but Buffy believes in vampires. Vampires! That's just too - "

Cordelia knew how to keep Xander quiet. He fell silent as Cordelia placed her left forefinger on his lips, her right hand by his ear and leaned forward, tantalisingly close, with a seductive smile on her face. "Keep it quiet. We don't want anyone to overhear this conversation. Let's look at this rationally."

Cordelia thought briefly. She needed to persuade Xander to overlook whatever subtle flaws in her act Willow had noticed and persuade him not to make a fuss about what he had just overheard. The second shouldn't be too difficult, since he hadn't the first time round. As for the first, well she could always appeal to his ego, or claim shock. Perhaps she could even do both. Cordelia stepped back slightly and began speaking.

"Giles also believes in vampires, and he wasn't surprised that Buffy did. He's English and Buffy's from LA so they can't have met before today. Principal Flutie wouldn't hire crazy people and Buffy seemed sane when she spoke to me. What're the chances that two crazy people arrive here the same week, and they both believe the same thing? It's either that or something weird's going on, perhaps not vampires, but something odd. Surely the best thing is just to watch and see what happens; it might be interesting. Telling people you think Buffy is mad won't get you a date with her."

When Cordelia paused in her speech, Xander interrupted. "I don't care what you think. You can't tell me what to do. If I wanted to tell people I would but I'm not like you."

Xander paused, looking worried. "I just wish I knew what it meant."

Cordelia gave Xander an encouraging pat on the arm. "Good. If she's got problems, she'll need friends like you and Willow."

They had only have been faking their friendship towards her, but she was almost sure that everyone else in Buffy's gang really had been friends.

Xander frowned, clearly puzzled. "That's the other thing. Why are you being so not Cordelia? You've given me almost as many compliments as insults."

Cordelia thought a moment, then replied, "Can you keep my secrets?"

When Xander nodded Cordelia smiled. She knew she couldn't trust him not to cheat on her but on everything else he was pretty reliable. He definitely knew how to keep secrets.

"Three reasons," she said, "What I told Willow this morning — you know about that?"

Xander nodded again.

"But I don't believe that," Xander objected. "You've only ever been interested in fashion and status."

"Can't a girl change?"

"Not overnight. It's just too weird."

"None of my so-called friends really care about me, not like you, Willow, and Jesse care about each other. I realised that months ago."

Xander looked embarrassed. "We're just friends," he insisted. "But why the sudden change? What's going on?"

Cordelia sighed. Perhaps she had been slightly too eager to ingratiate herself. It might have been easier to act exactly as she had done the first time until she saw a vampire, which would have given her ample excuse for personality changes, assuming she could have kept up the act that long. Pretending to be her younger self while manipulating people without making anyone suspicious was slightly harder than she had expected, but she would surely get the hang of it within a few days. It was too late to change plans now anyway.

"That's 'cause of the other two reasons," Cordelia replied. "Recently I've noticed a few weird things about Sunnydale, which is also why I was interested in what Buffy said."

"This is a perfectly normal town," Xander objected. "Nothing odd ever happens here. No vampires, no werewolves, no zombies, no demons, just normal people."

Cordelia almost burst out laughing. "Now just imagine how Harmony would react if she learned I was interested in that stuff."

Xander smiled. "She'd make you a laughingstock."

"But I don't think you will, will you? And I know Willow's smart and you're, well —" Cordelia faked a shy smile. "Anyway I thought you two could help discover the truth without letting anyone else know what we're doing. It just took a while to get the nerve to approach you. I'm being nice to you, so you won't say anything, right?"

Xander nodded. "You've got a strange idea of nice. I'm not saying anything but if you want our help you should stop insulting Willow. She's sensitive."

Cordelia scowled. Even if she spent twenty-four hours a day insulting Willow it wouldn't even be one percent of what that girl deserved.

Unfortuantely, punishing her would have to wait until Xander wasn't in any position to object; he was genuinely fond of Willow, not just blinded to her many faults by lust. Probably, he'd always loved her like a sister. It was no wonder he hadn't been able to keep his hands to himself when Willow flaunted herself at him. She might play the innocent, but Willow knew how to get her way. Visions of Willow seducing Xander danced through Cordelia's head. Xander should have resisted though. She'd make him pay for that, punish him for being so weak-willed.

"Can't she cope with the truth? I don't like lying to people."

"There's a little thing called tact, you might have heard of it."

"Tact is just not saying true stuff. It's no better than lies."

"Are you sure you're human?"

"Yes," Cordelia replied firmly. "I'm as normal as anyone in Sunnydale."

Xander shook his head in disbelief. "Just be gentle. Stop hurting Willow and we'll try and help you. "

Cordelia smiled. Xander might only be humouring her but that didn't matter. He would soon be seeing the weirdness for himself, after which he would accept that the minor abnormalities in her behaviour were due to her shock at discovering that weirdness herself. She wouldn't need to use her third reason, which was a relief. Her being attracted to Xander would have been excuse enough for odd behaviour, and appealed to his pride, but it would have been an embarrassing claim to make and he probably wouldn't have believed it without more preparation. She'd better cut this conversation short though, before Xander could ask awkward questions.

"Thanks," Cordelia said. "If we stay here much longer we'll be found. I'll try and arrange somewhere we can meet discretely later. I don't want Harmony to know I'm talking to you. I know my crowd are shallow, but they're the only friends I've got. Flutie's given me the day off, since I saw that body, so I'm going shopping."

Cordelia hurried out of the closet before Xander could reply. She had a lot to do to prepare for the evening, and the mall would be the best place to start.

* * *

When Cordelia arrived home three hours later she spread her haul out on her bed. She looked at the odd assortment of purchases spread out on her bed; the jewellery, the almanac, and the large crosses, and then she smiled.

Cordelia knew she had no chance of killing even a young vampire single-handedly, but this equipment should be enough to stop the vampires killing her. All of the rings were embossed with crosses, which should make her punches sting, and the crosses on her necklace and earrings should make vampires recoil from her throat. A nice large cross would keep most vampires at a safe distance; well, most of the younger ones anyway, the rest would just knock it out of her hand. Cordelia checked the sunset time in her almanac, then went downstairs for tea.

After Cordelia had eaten and selected a stunning pure black ensemble to wear to the Bronze, she sat back and thought about her plans for saving Jesse. Xander had told her a bit about what had happened to him, but that had been nearly a year ago. She vividly remembered Buffy attacking her with a stake though. What had Xander said? Buffy had been looking for some vampire that had picked up Willow. Xander had shown Buffy the way to the nearest cemetery. When they had arrived they had found Jesse there with some other vampire. Xander had said her name, Darla or suchlike, and something else Cordelia couldn't quite recall. Well, it couldn't be that important.

The easiest way to keep Jesse safe would probably be to dance with him herself. With her in his arms no vampire would have a chance of luring Jesse out of the Bronze. However, the vampire would just pick another victim and her reputation would suffer. Cordelia didn't want to save Jesse at the expense of someone else's life.

No, Cordelia decided; she would wait till Darla had selected Jesse, follow them both out of the Bronze, hit the vampire with a cross to distract her from Jesse, then try and intimidate her into running away. Cordelia had bluffed vampires before; she was sure she could do it again. Most of them were just plain stupid. Cordelia would just need to be ready to run if Darla tried fighting. She might head for the cemetery, leading the vampire right into Buffy's stake, or she could just run back to the Bronze, but either way Jesse would be safe, and he would owe her his life.

Gaining an advantage like that was worth taking small risks for, and with her foreknowledge the risks would be small.

Cordelia dressed, put on her jewellery, slipped the cross into her purse, and stepped out into the night, completely confident of her inevitable success.

* * *

Cordelia sat at her regular table in the Bronze, half listening to her friends inanely chattering as she looked around. Buffy was talking to Willow, Giles was up on the balcony and Jesse was approaching Cordelia, but Xander wasn't there yet. Once he arrived, she'd know the excitement was about to begin. She would have to ditch her friends first though; she didn't want them following her when she tried trailing vampires.

Cordelia stood up, slipped past Jesse without a word, and moved onto the dance floor. The sheep tried to follow her there, but Cordelia had moved too quickly and lost them in the crowd. Cordelia glanced round the Bronze again, checking that nothing had happened. Xander still hadn't arrived yet but Buffy had gone to talk to Giles and Willow was talking to a suspicious looking boy in dated clothes. Cordelia wasn't sure, but the instincts acquired over a year with Buffy's gang told her the boy might be a vampire. It was mainly his clothes, but his body language was subtly off, too predatory.

As the vampire led Willow out of the Bronze, Cordelia had to restrain herself from following them. She knew Willow was going to survive; it was Jesse who needed her protection. Cordelia glanced up at the balcony. Buffy had clearly noticed the vampire and was hurrying after Willow. Jesse was talking to some girl. Cordelia turned to watch him, ignoring Buffy. That might be Darla he was talking to.

After a few minutes, the girl led Jesse out of the back entrance. Cordelia took one last glance around the Bronze, but Buffy and Giles had vanished. They must have left while she had been watching Jesse. Cordelia took two deep breaths and summoned her courage. She could do this. If she didn't, Jesse would certainly die. He needed her.

Cordelia made her way across the crowded dance floor and followed Jesse out of the Bronze, her right hand clutching at the cross inside her purse. The back alley was empty. Cordelia sighed; it had taken her two minutes to cross the dance floor and get out of the Bronze, giving Jesse and his vampire girl an annoying head start. At least she knew where they were going. Cordelia hurried after them.

* * *

Five minutes later, Cordelia paused at the end of an alleyway and peered left round the corner, not wanting to get herself ambushed. Jesse was about five hundred yards ahead. The vampire tugged him into an alley that, Cordelia knew, led straight to the cemetery.

Cordelia frowned. That would be the fifth alley this evening. Why couldn't Darla stick to proper roads? These alleys were making her clothes dirty. Still, she was gaining on Jesse. At this rate she'd catch up with them just before they reached the cemetery. Cordelia glanced right, but there was no sign of Xander or Buffy. Perhaps they'd already got there.

One minute later Cordelia stepped out of the alley, directly opposite the cemetery gates. Jesse was leaning on them, being bitten by Darla.

"Hey! Get your teeth off him, vampire," Cordelia shouted, hoping Buffy would hear.

Cordelia strode towards Darla, confidently brandishing her cross and radiating all the hauteur she could muster. Darla dropped Jesse, spun to face Cordelia, then laughed scornfully. "More for the Master."

Jesse struggled upright, rubbing his neck. "What?" he muttered, then saw Darla's true face. As he fainted, Darla grinned hideously.

"Run away, little girl. You might escape."

So Darla wanted to play with her food. Cordelia smiled. That made things easier.

Cordelia stopped three yards in front of Darla and spoke in a firm but quiet voice, "There will be no harvest here, not in my town. I will not permit you to open the hellmouth."

Seeing Darla look slightly shocked Cordelia smiled. Xander had told her a bit about the harvest once. With that, and everything else she knew, she would be able to bluff this vampire into submission. Jesse was unconscious, so he wouldn't hear anything odd.

"How?" Darla began, but Cordelia interrupted.

"I have faced vampires before, by the score. I've fought William the Bloody, terrified Lyle Gorch and killed an assassin of the order of Taraka. You don't scare me." Cordelia's voice was steady, her face showing no trace of her nervousness.

Darla laughed nervously. "You're bluffing."

Cordelia could hear distant footsteps now. Hopefully, it was Buffy, not more vampires.

"What normal child would know of the order of Taraka, of Acathla or the Judge? I've fought demons, zombies and werewolves. Run, Darla, before I rip out your heart," Cordelia said, sounding almost bored.

Darla gasped in shock and stared amazed at Cordelia, ignoring the fast approaching footsteps. "Where did you hear those names? You'll tell me everything, when you're mine!"

As Darla finished speaking she sprang towards Cordelia, fangs bared. Cordelia was knocked to the ground, but she managed to keep her cross in front of her face. Darla recoiled from it, lifting her head slightly. Just then Cordelia saw a foot kick Darla's ear. Buffy had arrived. Darla rolled off Cordelia and jumped to her feet. Cordelia stayed on the ground, too shocked at her narrow escape to do anything.

"Who the hell are you?" Darla asked, sounding confused.

"You mean there's actually someone in this town who doesn't know already? Whew, that's a relief, I'm telling you! Having a secret identity in this town is a job of work," Buffy replied, with a relaxed smile, then attacked Darla.

Xander pulled Cordelia to her feet, then went over to help Jesse up. Cordelia watched the fight, a spectacular flurry of kicks and punches. There was nothing she could do now except wait, and hope Buffy would win, but Cordelia had never enjoyed waiting. She had always preferred to be in control of events, rather than relying on others to help her. Self-reliance was important.

She couldn't really be sure but it looked to her like Buffy was winning. From the expression on Darla's face she thought so too. Darla knocked Buffy back ten yards and started to run away, but she seemed punch drunk, and she was limping badly.

As she staggered away, Darla looked over her shoulder, and stumbled into Cordelia.

Cordelia staggered backwards, but just managed to catch Darla's face with the cross.

Darla screamed, lost her balance and fell at Cordelia's feet. Before she could stand back up, Buffy jumped on her back and staked her.

As Darla collapsed into a cloud of dust Cordelia held out her hand to Buffy. "Spectacular, I guess you really are a professional vampire slayer."

Buffy grabbed Cordelia's hand and pulled herself to her feet. "You too? Has Giles been handing out leaflets?"

"I was with Xander when- " Cordelia began, but Buffy interrupted her.

"I've still got to rescue Willow. Did you see where she went?"

Cordelia pointed into the cemetery. "They were heading that way, towards a mausoleum."

Buffy ran into the cemetery, Cordelia following her. Xander and Jesse took one look at each other, shrugged, then followed the girls.

* * *

Arriving at the mausoleum moments after Buffy, Cordelia looked inside and saw her fighting a large vampire and Willow slumped on the floor, looking dazed. Cordelia hesitated then stepped inside, holding her cross firmly with both hands, and walked cautiously towards Willow, giving a wide berth to the combatants.

Xander ran into the mausoleum, took one look at Willow, screamed her name, and dashed recklessly towards her.

"Get her out," Buffy shouted.

"Don't take her far," the vampire added, then laughed.

Willow looked barely conscious so Cordelia and Xander dragged her to her feet and pulled her out of the mausoleum. Once outside Cordelia looked at the other three. Jesse was leaning against the mausoleum wall, still weakened by Darla's bite. Willow didn't seem to have been bitten, but she did look in shock. Xander was coping best, but even he looked panicky. Cordelia had expected better from him.

Cordelia was confident Buffy would win her fight since she'd won the first time, and this time Darla wasn't there. Still, she didn't want to hang round the mausoleum. More vampires might have arranged to meet there.

"Got to go fast, before more vamps come," Cordelia began, her voice commanding. Xander tried to speak, but she overrode him. "No time. Xander, help Jesse. Stay with me. "

Xander began speaking but she ignored him. Cordelia didn't have time to argue. Instead, she grabbed Willow by the arm and began to walk briskly towards the gate, cross still held in her right hand. After a year in his company Cordelia was confident Xander would follow her. Willow was still only half conscious so Xander would want to stay near her. He'd also want to get Jesse out of danger and into a hospital, but the graveyard only had one exit. Xander might not like it, but he had to follow her.

One minute later Xander caught up with her and began arguing. Jesse was leaning on him like some drunk, but at least he was upright. They would never have been able to carry Jesse out of the graveyard.

* * *

Before long Willow had recovered enough to speak. "We'll get the police. It's just a few blocks up."

Cordelia smiled. Willow really was naive if she expected the police to be any help. She'd soon learn better.

"Um," Xander said nervously, "what about them?"

Four vampires were standing there, not far in front of them. Cordelia didn't remember Xander telling her anything about this. She knew there was no chance of winning a fight and she couldn't use the same bluff on these vampires as she had on Darla because the others were listening. Unless she could think of something else to say fast, that only left one option.

"Run," Cordelia shouted, then sprinted back towards the mausoleum, where Buffy was. She had barely covered fifty yards when a vampire grabbed her from behind, pinning her left arm.

Cordelia kicked backwards with her left leg, trying to trip the vampire, while punching back over her shoulder with her right hand. She grazed the vampire's cheek with her cross-embossed rings, making it audibly wince, then brushed its face with her wooden cross.

The vampire screamed and stumbled backwards but kept a firm hold on Cordelia's arm. Cordelia was yanked off her feet and fell backwards, with her left arm behind her. The vampire, caught off balance by Cordelia's fall, fell forwards on top of her, trapping her left arm in a painful position.

Cordelia squirmed under the vampire, but before she could escape the vampire stood up and stamped on her right wrist, making her drop the cross, then grabbed her right arm and began dragging her away.

Tucking her legs up, she dug her high heels deep into the soft soil, determined to try anything to slow the vampire down and give Buffy time to rescue her. She kept tugging at the vampire, trying to break free, but it was too strong for her. Just as she was cursing Anya for getting her into such danger, the vampire gasped in surprise, dropped Cordelia and collapsed into dust.

Buffy helped Cordelia to her feet, then pulled out another stake.

Cordelia looked around. Willow was standing nearby and Buffy had just run off to rescue the others.

"You OK?" Cordelia asked.

Willow looked pale, but she nodded. Cordelia walked back a few yards to pick her cross up, then winced. Her wrists were feeling painful.

"You OK?" Willow asked, then looked surprised at what she had just said.

"My wrists hurt. That vampire stamped on one and I landed awkwardly on the other."

Willow winced in sympathy. "Probably just badly bruised. If they swell up, see a doctor."

Buffy walked back towards Cordelia, closely followed by Xander.

"The vamps have all run off," she began.

"Where's Jesse?" Willow asked.

"I was too slow for him," Buffy said, clearly despondent. "Once they reached the road … "

Cordelia groaned and stopped listening. Her intervention had meant Darla died earlier, so Buffy had been able to rescue three people rather than the two she'd been able to manage the first time round, but she hadn't managed to save Jesse. She would have to do better next time.

Next time? Cordelia hesitated a moment. This night hadn't gone too well and she was almost tempted to back out while she still could, but her reasons for involving herself in the weird stuff were still sound. She didn't have much choice, it would help her get revenge on Xander and she could save the people Buffy had failed, such as Principal Flutie and Ms Calendar. There would be a next time and it should be a glorious victory for her.

"Cordelia!" Buffy waved her hands in front off Cordelia's eyes, trying to catch her attention.

Cordelia blinked then spoke, "Let's all go home. We will talk about this in the morning."

"That's what I've been saying," Buffy replied. "I'll walk you all home. Who lives the closest?"


	3. Cordelia's Wish: The Harvest

The next morning Cordelia arrived at school early. She knew she had made some small mistakes the previous day, but she'd had no time to prepare herself. Everything had been spur of the moment. Now that she'd had a good night's sleep and more time to think she would be better able to use her foreknowledge. Cordelia had had several hours to prepare her story. She'd be able to ask leading questions and make lucky guesses. Smiling confidently, she walked over to where Xander and Willow were sitting. They fell silent as she approached.

"Buffy here yet?" Cordelia asked.

Xander shook his head and looked nervous. "You knew about those things last night, didn't you? How?"

Cordelia nodded. "Let's wait for her in the library. We can talk privately in there."

"But Mr Giles is weird."

"He knows stuff. He can explain things."

"We can meet Buffy out here and see what she says," Xander said, looking stubborn.

"Did you tell her to meet you here?" Cordelia asked.

When Willow shook her head, looking nervous. Cordelia continued speaking. "The best place to wait is the library; we know she's going there, and we can start asking questions."

"Since when are us three a we?" Willow muttered, looking thoughtful, then she turned to face Xander. "As I was saying, we should go to the library. It's the best place to find answers and Buffy might already be there. If Cordelia decides to follow us we might even find out why she's being different."

Cordelia smiled. Willow did know how to make her point.

* * *

Cordelia followed Xander and Willow into the library. Giles looked at them, startled.

"Has Buffy told you about the vampires last night yet?" Cordelia asked, as she sat down at the table. Before Giles could speak she went on, "Don't worry. Me and Xander overheard you yesterday afternoon. We know Buffy's some superhero slayer and you're her watcher."

"I didn't," Willow said nervously.

Giles looked uncomfortable. "Um, well, she hasn't made her report yet but Willow's here so everything's fine. Nothing for you to worry about."

"No," said Buffy, striding through the doors, "They got Jesse."

Buffy glanced round the room then stared at Cordelia.

"Jesse?" Giles asked.

"My friend. They just dragged him off, like a sack of rubbish." Xander looked angrily at Cordelia. "If you'd danced with him, he'd still be alive."

"Darla would have just taken someone else," Cordelia retorted. "Would that have been any better?"

Xander frowned uncertainly

"Darla?" Giles interrupted, "That was the vampire's name? H-how do you know?"

That had been a slip. Cordelia had to cover it up, even if it meant lying outright.

"She told me when I was trying to bluff her," Cordelia replied, not looking at Giles.

Xander nodded. "Jesse told me her name when we were walking to the mausoleum, and how you rescued him. Those were his last words, how brave you looked."

Xander hesitated, then looked directly at Cordelia. "You risked your life to rescue him. You couldn't have done more."

"He might still be alive," Cordelia said reassuringly. "If they hadn't wanted to keep us alive they would have killed us on the spot."

Giles put a book on the table and opened it, showing them an old photo. "Is this who you saw?"

Buffy nodded. "She's dead now."

"Dead?" Giles sounded surprised. "She was about four hundred years old, not a great fighter but she killed a slayer once. She was one of the top hundred vampires in the country, quite infamous. How did you kill her?"

Cordelia felt faint. If she'd known Darla was that dangerous she wouldn't have dared bluff her.

"She ran away. I staked her in the back." Buffy had never given detailed reports.

"Cordelia hit her too," Xander added, then looked directly at Cordelia. "What were you doing there, with that cross?"

Giles and Buffy both looked at Cordelia, waiting for an answer. Cordelia swallowed nervously. She had never liked lying but she had no choice. She just hoped she could keep her story straight. Fortunately, she was a natural actress, so nobody would spot her deception.

"I followed Jesse there. I already knew Darla was a vampire and I wanted to try and save him."

"How?" Willow asked. She was listening intently to the conversation, but looked pale.

"I saw her bite Brian three weeks ago," Cordelia lied. She hadn't, but she had read about his death in her diary. In retrospect it was obviously a vampire killing. "And there have been four other deaths since then, people whose corpses were found drained of blood, like the boy yesterday."

Giles looked thoughtfully at Cordelia.

"So that's why you were odd yesterday," Willow muttered, then blushed. "You wanted to talk to us about vampires? Why us?"

"I don't want vampires in my town. I thought you and Xander could help me get rid of them. I knew my friends would be no use but you looked suitable."

In quick succession Xander looked surprised, slightly flattered then angry. "Like cannon-fodder you mean. You were just going to use us. As if we'd follow your orders. Jesse loved you and you just let him walk to his death."

"Upset much? Don't take it out on me," Cordelia said, then lowered her vocie to a near-whisper. "I wanted to save him. I did everything I could to stop anyone dying last night. I risked my life trying to save him."

Cordelia looked at Giles and frowned. "You were in the Bronze last night. If Darla was so famous why didn't you and Buffy spot her and kill her?"

Really, it was Xander's fault for not telling her enough about what had happened, but she couldn't say that. Xander had never spoken about Jesse, but it had been obvious that his death had left a void in Xander's life. If Xander found out that he was responsible for his friend's death, the knowledge would crush his spirit. Cordelia might want Xander to suffer, but she knew he didn't quite deserve that.

"I'm sorry," Giles began, then looked thoughtful. "You said you bluffed Darla? How?"

Xander interrupted. "Jesse's gone, probably dead and you want to talk? We've got to do something, call the police, rescue him, anything." Xander sounded frantic to help his friend.

"And they'd believe us, of course," Giles said, sounding sceptical.

"Well, we don't have to say vampires," Willow suggested. "We could just say there was a bad man."

"The police couldn't handle it if they did show up," Buffy explained. "They'd only come with guns."

"Vampires," Xander said disbelievingly. "That's where I'm having the problem. We're talking about vampires. Vampires can't be real."

"Weren't they what we saw last night?" Willow sounded unsure, reluctant to believe her own memories.

Sarcastically, Buffy said, "No, those weren't vampires, those were just guys in thundering need of a facial. Or maybe they had rabies. It could have been rabies. And that guy turning to dust? Just a trick of the light."

Xander looked at Buffy in disbelief, clearly unwilling to swallow that explanation but Willow appeared to have been thinking.

"Um, Cordelia," Willow said hesitantly, "I understand why you were trying to ingratiate yourselves with us, well sort of, and I'm flattered, but suitable how? Anyway, why in front of Buffy? You didn't know she was whatever she is, which I'm not clear on yet, Xander's hearsay being unclear, so why wouldn't you expect her to tell the people you don't want to know what you did know. What I'm saying is why didn't you behave normally in front of Buffy, since you thought she was normal and you were being secretive?"

As Willow finished babbling Cordelia frowned. She hadn't anticipated that question. She would have to make up an answer as she went along, making it harder to keep her story straight.

"Well, Willow," she said, giving herself a moment longer to think in, "I thought you were suitable because of your research skills. You could find out where the vampires were hiding and stuff. As for Buffy, it was just that being new she wouldn't be believed if she did speak and she did seem suitable." It would be tricky to explain why she had thought Buffy suitable but she needed to. Otherwise her behaviour the previous day wouldn't seem plausible.

"Cordelia," Giles began, "I need to know what Darla said to you. It might be important."

"Suitable?" Buffy objected, frowning at Cordelia. "How do I look like a vampire slayer?"

Cordelia decided to answer Giles first, giving her time to think of an answer for Buffy. "She told me her name, said 'Tomorrow will come the harvest. The Bronze will be our feeding ground' and claimed to have seen the crucifixion."

Cordelia smiled briefly. She might have had to lie to do it, but she had just told Giles information gained from the future, information he wouldn't otherwise have had yet. She knew they had been going to find out about the Bronze eventually but her lie meant they had found out earlier. Hopefully that would mean that this time they'd stop the harvest before anyone could die.

"Interesting," Giles replied. "Odd that she spoke to you though."

"She was about to bite her when I arrived. Why was I suitable?" Buffy was staring intently at Cordelia.

"I kept her talking for a good minute though. I was trying to give Jesse time to run away. I didn't know he'd been bitten. I just spoke confidently to Darla, as though she weren't a threat, and hoped she'd believe that meant I was too dangerous for her to attack. It's worked once before. That vamp mentioned your name before it ran away. I thought you might have some connection with vampires," Cordelia said, then smiled, hoping that explanation would satisfy Buffy.

"You were lucky," Giles said, nudging his glasses. "Most vampires are so stupid they'd attack without listening. Most of the rest are too smart to believe a bluff, at least not without more evidence."

Cordelia nodded. Darla had believed her bluff but had still attacked. She had intimidated Gorch, but he'd been told she was a slayer. If she had her back to the wall even bluffing would be worth trying but otherwise vampire fighting was best left to Buffy.

Xander interrupted, looking impatient. "You forgotten Jesse? Remember, he was dragged off by vampires?"

Willow added, "If Buffy hadn't shown up they would have taken us too. I almost died. Does anyone mind if I pass out?"

Willow had looked nervous throughout the conversation, but now she appeared to be on the edge of panic. Cordelia was surprised by how poorly Willow was coping. It was such a contrast to what she remembered but it should make Willow easier to manipulate. Helping Willow cope with the terrors of the hellmouth would be a good way to gain her trust. Besides, it was distressing to see Willow so panicked.

Cordelia tried to look sympathetic. "I understand but you're safe now with your friends."

"I need to sit down." Willow's voice was trembling.

"You are sitting down," Buffy and Cordelia replied in near unison.

"Oh, good for me."

"Breathe," Buffy added.

Cordelia gently patted Willow on the shoulder. "You can help Giles. That should make you feel better, being useful."

Willow nodded then said to Giles, "What are vampires anyway? Which legends are true and how can we protect ourselves?"

Giles looked hesitant for a moment then spoke. "This world is older than any of you know. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. For untold aeons demons walked the Earth. They made it their home, their— their Hell. But in time they lost their purchase on this reality. The way was made for mortal animals, for man. All that remains of the old ones are vestiges, certain magics, certain creatures …."

"And vampires," Buffy added cheerfully.

"So vampires are part demon?" Cordelia said, trying to sound interested, as if she hadn't heard that speech before.

"The books say the last demon to leave this reality fed off a human, mixed their blood," Giles said. "He was a human form possessed, infected by the demon's soul. He bit another, and another, and so they walk the Earth, feeding …. Killing some, mixing their blood with others to make more of their kind. Waiting for the animals to die out, and the old ones to return."

"What about Buffy?" Xander asked. "Yesterday you called her a slayer."

"She is," Giles said. "For as long as there have been vampires, there has been the slayer. One girl in all the world, a chosen one."

"He loves doing this part," Buffy added.

"All right. Buffy is the slayer. The slayer hunts vampires. She will protect you from them. I think that's all the vampire information you need."

Cordelia smiled. Giles was trying to stop anyone else from becoming involved in Buffy's weirdness. It was odd to think that if Giles had succeeded Buffy would have been dead by now. All the slayerettes had saved her life at least once. From what had been said Cordelia guessed the only reason why Xander and Willow hadn't already repressed their memories, the way everyone else in Sunnydale did, was because Jesse had gone missing. That had stopped them forgetting. Cordelia still wished she had been able to save Jesse, but perhaps his death had been for the best after all. It was a comforting thought anyway.

"Except for one thing: how do you kill them?" Xander looked determined.

"You don't. I do," Buffy said gently.

"Well, Jesse's my — "

Buffy interrupted, "Jesse's my responsibility. I let him get taken."

"There was nothing you could do," Cordelia assured her. If only she had been better prepared. Perhaps she could have sent Angel an anonymous warning. Where was he anyway? He hadn't been mentioned yet. Had Buffy even met him yet? Cordelia would have to think about that later.

Buffy looked at Giles. "This big guy, Luke. He talked about an offering to the Master. Now, I don't know what or who, but if they weren't just feeding then Jesse may still be alive. I'm going to find him."

Giles glanced briefly at Cordelia and the other teenagers then asked, "You have no idea where they took Jesse?"

He must finally have realised he wasn't going to be able to avoid speaking about slayer business in front of Cordelia, and the others.

"I looked around," Buffy said, "but as soon as they got clear of the graveyard they could have, voom."

"They can fly?" Xander asked.

"Why would they have to leave the graveyard to fly?" Cordelia asked scornfully. "They can probably drive and they might've gone underground."

Buffy looked thoughtfully at Cordelia and nodded. "Vampires really jam on sewer systems. You can get anywhere in the entire town without catching any rays, but I didn't see any access around there."

"Willow can find the blueprints online," Cordelia said, looking at her.

Willow nodded eagerly and rushed to the computer, but Buffy was still staring at Cordelia, a puzzled frown on her face.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Cordelia asked.

"You've coped very well with all this." Buffy hesitated, then continued, "Giles, I dreamed about Cordelia last night. I had the exact same dream seven times."

"Are your dreams significant?" Cordelia asked. She knew the answer though. It wasn't too surprising that Buffy might be warned about someone rewriting history, but Cordelia had forgotten about that problem. She would just have to hope the dream was too cryptic for Giles to understand.

Giles nodded. "Sometimes. If she had it seven times it must have been important. What was it?"

"Well," Buffy began, "first I saw Xander and Willow kissing, then I saw Cordelia holding an hourglass. She had a metal spike driven through her stomach and looked really upset. She turned the hourglass upside down and everything changed. Cordelia was balancing on a tightrope over an ocean of blood and she was holding the world in her hands. But the worse part was the laughter. All the time something nasty was sniggering in the distance. It sounded really horrible."

Buffy paused and took three deep breaths. She had gone pale and was shuddering slightly. Cordelia swallowed nervously. If just remembering the laughter frightened Buffy that badly, it was definitely bad news.

Buffy smiled wanly and started speaking again. "It really gave me the wiggins. I woke up too scared to scream. I had to put all the lights on before I could get back to sleep, and then I had the exact same dream six more times. It wasn't a normal dream. Giles, I have to know, what does it mean?"

Cordelia had a good idea what that dream meant. The first part had already happened to her. Whatever sent Buffy her dreams hadn't forgotten the future her wish had erased, but at least it was lacking in the clear communications department.

The second part was more cryptic but perhaps it meant that if the information in Cordelia's head got into the wrong hands, the world would be in great danger. If Spike had known the future he would have been much more dangerous. That was another good reason not to tell anyone about her wish. She didn't think they'd tell the bad guys deliberately but the more people who knew the more likely accidents would be. The laughing thing might be the Judge, or Acathla, or some other big bad thing that could destroy the world if it learned what Cordelia knew.

Giles looked thoughtful, then answered Buffy's question. "I'm not sure. It sounds like a warning. If Willow and Xander get, um, i- involved Cordelia will be injured and asked to do something. If she make the wrong choice the world will be in grave danger. The hourglass suggests there will be a time limit on her actions. The laughter probably means some big major force will be involved." Giles paused and looked at Xander. "You and Willow aren't i-involved, are you?"

Xander looked almost disgusted at the notion, an expression Cordelia was pleased to see. What had Willow done to make him change his mind about her? Climbed naked into his bed, perhaps? It didn't seem like something she would do, but neither had stealing another girl's boy.

"No. Willow's not that kind of girl. She's just one of the guys and Cordelia is almost the last person I'd trust with the world. That will not happen."

Willow looked disappointed at Xander's words but hearing about that dream should stop her pursuing Xander. Giles's misinterpretation of Buffy's dream had been lucky for Cordelia. Xander's low opinion of her was disappointing though.

Giles looked confused. "That's reassuring but then I'm not sure why the message would be sent with such urgency. I will have to consult my books."

Cordelia shrugged. "Perhaps the Willow in Buffy's dream was a vampire or, well, I've heard near death experiences can make people have orgies."

Willow blushed, then said, "Not with me. Are you sure it wasn't a normal dream? We can't do anything about it now anyway. We'll have to think about it later. Jesse —" Willow paused. "I've found the city tunnel plans. Let's concentrate on rescuing Jesse now and worry about that dream later."

Everyone but Giles moved round to look at the screen. Buffy pointed out a tunnel running directly under the graveyard, but the plans didn't show any surface access to it.

"So are all the city plans just open to the public?" Giles asked, sounding curious.

Willow replied hesitantly. "Well, in a way. I sort of stumbled on them when I accidentally cracked the city council's security system."

"This is useless. There's nothing here," Buffy complained, moving away from the screen.

"There could be lots of unofficial tunnels down there, built by vampires and other things, but I'm sure knowing where some of the tunnels are will prove useful," Cordelia said, trying to sound supportive of Willow's efforts, then continued, "Think about last night. Perhaps that will give more clues."

Buffy shook her head. "No. I staked Willow's vamp easily. That monster Luke attacked me from behind. We escaped. End of story."

Willow looked thoughtful. "Cordelia, did you see Luke go in the mausoleum? How far behind Buffy were you?"

"No, but I saw Buffy go in. Ooh, I get it. You think there might be a secret passage in the mausoleum," Cordelia replied. Willow really was the smart one.

Buffy nodded. "I was facing the entrance, he came from behind me, and he didn't follow me out. The access to the tunnels is in the mausoleum! They must have doubled back with Jesse after I got out! God! I am so mentally challenged!"

"So what's the plan? We saddle up, right?" Xander sounded eager to take action; that was just like him.

"There is no 'we.' I am the slayer and you aren't." It seemed Buffy didn't want any help.

"We can help Buffy in other ways, like Giles does," Cordelia added.

"We?" Xander said. "Since when do you help people? Buffy's here to kill the vampires; we don't need you. You can stop pretending to like us and go back to your friends."

Clearly Xander didn't want her in the gang. Understandable, Cordelia supposed, since they had never been friends, but it wasn't his choice. All Cordelia needed was Buffy's acceptance and she would be in. After that it would only take a few days to make Xander trust her.

"I can do as much as you can," she replied. "I won't just stand back and let people die, not when I have a chance to make a difference."

Willow was looking undecided. "I'm not anxious to go into a dark place full of monsters, but I do want to help. I need to."

Giles looked at Willow, nervously at the computer then back at Willow. "Well, then help me. I've been researching this Harvest affair. It seems to be some sort of preordained massacre. Rivers of blood, Hell on Earth, quite charmless. I'm a bit fuzzy, however, on the details. It may be that you can wrest some information from that dread machine."

Cordelia smiled. That speech was vintage Giles, if a little stuffy even by his standards. Of all Buffy's gang, Giles was the most like the person she remembered from before her wish, just a little stiffer. Looking around, she realised that everyone else, lacking her long experience with Giles, had been completely baffled by him.

"I think that means he wants Willow to go on the net," Cordelia said. Willow nodded.

Buffy hurried off, promising to bring Jesse back. Cordelia looked at the wall clock, nearly ten to nine. She hadn't realised it was so late. They had been talking for longer than she had expected.

"Well, I've got a class to get to," Cordelia said, and quickly left the library. They wouldn't be saying anything important with Buffy gone and Cordelia needed to mingle with her flock. If they didn't see her every morning, there was no telling what gossip Harmony might start.

* * *

Cordelia confidently amended her program. Even with her extra eighteen months schooling, computer lab was less than easy, but it was better than it had been the first time around. She had even found time to type a short cryptic note for Angel. If she could just think of a way to get it to him anonymously, she would soon have him following her instructions.

"We going to the Bronze tonight?" Harmony asked.

Cordelia smiled. It was nice to be back in a time when Harmony did nothing without Cordelia's approval. She hadn't been able to hold court properly the previous night because she'd been trying to save Jesse, but the coming night would be different.

Then Cordelia remembered about the harvest. The only thing she'd be doing in the Bronze that night would be assisting in the world saveage, not that she planned to fight, but it was important to be there, to show willing. She didn't want Harmony there though. She'd been unharmed in the original history and Cordelia's intervention should reduce the death toll, but the fewer potential victims the better. Besides, she definitely didn't want Harmony to see her associating with Xander or Willow.

"No," Cordelia said, "I saw the school librarian there last night. Anywhere librarians go is anticool."

"That why you vanished last night? Aura thought it was shock from yesterday morning. She spent a whole five minutes looking for you, then Buffy attacked her."

"Yesterday? That was only a corpse. I've seen much worse," Cordelia replied, then hastily added, "On TV that is."

"Where did you go last night anyway? Where are we going tonight?"

Cordelia frowned. She didn't have any answer to the first question so she would just have to try and distract Harmony. "Tonight? I haven't decided yet. What did Buffy do?"

Cordelia already had a good idea. Buffy had probably attacked Aura, thinking she was a vampire, the way she had Cordelia the first time round. Hearing Harmony's secondhand version would be interesting though. It was a pity she had missed that topic at the preclass chat but that was what came of spending too long in the library.

"She attacked Aura with sticks," Harmony said, "screaming that she was going to kill us all. That girl's weird."

Cordelia couldn't see Willow's face, but she had definitely twitched when Harmony spoke. It seemed she was listening, which was inconvenient. Cordelia didn't want Buffy's gang to think she was two-faced so she couldn't agree with Harmony's assessment of Buffy in front of them, but defending Buffy would soon harm her image. Cordelia tried to think of something she could say about Buffy that would keep both Harmony and Willow happy, despite their diametrically opposite opinions of the Slayer.

"Remember, she's from LA. She's not accustomed to living in a peaceful little town," Cordelia said, smiling at the irony. "It was probably just mistaken identity. She could have thought she was about to be mugged."

"Really?" Harmony sneered. "I heard she burnt her last school down. That's violent by any standard. The girl must be a psycho loony."

Willow interrupted. "No, she's not. You don't even know her."

Cordelia smiled. "See. Willow likes her. I hardly think someone as harmless as Willow would hang with anyone dangerous, even if they let her. Willow's too fluffy to be a psycho loony's sidekick. You're just jealous of Buffy. She's prettier than you, and she has better fashion sense, though that isn't saying much."

As Cordelia spoke, she watched her listener's faces. Willow had looked confused at first, but she had soon started smiling at Cordelia. Harmony just looked angry. She glared at Willow and asked, "Who gave you permission to horn in on our private discussions? You are just too boring."

Willow shrank back in her chair as Harmony turned to look at Cordelia. "Why did you let her speak? Willow's opinions are worthless. It doesn't matter if she likes Buffy. That girl is seriously weird. You shouldn't be talking to either of them."

Cordelia had never liked people telling her what she should do. She smiled sweetly. "Willow has her uses. Ask nicely and she'll tell you how to save that program."

Willow nodded, then stood up. As she went to pick her printouts up, she said, "Press deliver."

Cordelia watched Willow leave the classroom, then continued, "Buffy might be odd, and certainly odder than you, but that just makes her interesting. Normal people are so dull."

She smiled briefly as her barbed comment made Harmony flinch. The girl might only be a sheep but she had ambitions to dominate the flock. Harmony was constantly probing for weakness, looking for a chance to topple Cordelia from her rightful pedestal but Cordelia had never had any trouble keeping Harmony in her place, at least not until she had started dating Xander. Until that day Harmony's weak insults had never bothered Cordelia; they sprang from simple envy, not malice, and they were much better than being ignored.

"That why you were acting weird yesterday? Aura said you were about to kiss a corpse, you vanished last night and, weirdest of all, you actually sat down next to Willow during lunch."

Cordelia refused to let her face show any response to the feeble attempt at an insult. Harmony just didn't have what it took, not like Xander, but she did have an odd sense of priorities. Harmony was completely incapable of seeing beyond her obsession with social status. Cordelia could only hope she had never been that foolish but, looking back on her memories, she feared she had been.

Still, feeble though the insult was, Cordelia could not let it go unanswered. Harmony had to be discouraged from questioning Cordelia's movements and, after the hurtful things Harmony had said when she found out about Xander's betrayal, Cordelia didn't feel like pulling her punches.

"Aura was in shock," Cordelia said, adopting her most superior tone. "It's not that surprising that she failed to recognise standard first aid procedures. I know it might be a difficult concept for you to grasp but even you should realise it is important to check people are really dead before we bury them. The boy might have been in a coma. Still, if you really think someone kissing a corpse would be less weird than talking to Willow you might want to consider rearranging your priorities. You might think necrophilia is normal, though I've no idea why you would, but nobody else does."

Cordelia watched Harmony cringe at that last remark, which could spark a rumour certain to wreck Harmony's reputation, then decided to give the knife one last twist for Willow's sake. Cordelia saw nothing wrong with criticising Willow herself, but Harmony had not earned that right. Cordelia had risked her life for Willow and been greatly wronged by her; Harmony had not. Also, if Harmony were less critical, that should help the morale of all Buffy's gang. "Your program looks finished. Why don't you save it? Willow said 'deliver', right?"

Cordelia correctly saved her own work, then printed and deleted her letter to Angel. She knew Willow could do a lot with computers but she was almost certain even Willow wouldn't be able to trace the letter's origin, not when the file had been deleted from the system. Cordelia walked over to the printer and tucked the letter securely away, then turned to look back at Harmony. She was still hunting for the right key. Harmony finally made a tentative stab at the keyboard then stared in horror at the screen as her last hour's work was deleted. Cordelia just smiled, pleased by the expression on Harmony's face, then left the classroom.

* * *

When Cordelia stepped into the corridor she saw Willow slowly walking away. Willow glanced back over her shoulder, then stopped and waited for Cordelia to catch up. The two girls began walking along the empty corridor together.

"Did she do it?" Willow asked, a smile on her face.

Cordelia nodded. "You should have seen the expression on her face. It was even better than the first time."

Willow smiled broadly then looked pensive. "Was it right though? Harmony was unpleasant but - "

Cordelia interrupted. "It's too late to change your mind now. Apologising would only make her angrier. She deserved it anyway for insulting us."

This younger Willow really was an innocent if she had qualms about playing a small trick on Harmony. Cordelia supposed it had only been nerves that had stopped her apologising in the original history. Why couldn't she have been as reluctant to hurt Cordelia? It must have been due to Willow's increased self-confidence, which hadn't been a bad thing. Cordelia knew the world needed a more confident Willow; she just wished she hadn't paid the price.

"What did she say to you," Willow babbled, "or was that after I'd left? Anyway, I thought she was your friend, but you defended me and Buffy. Me! I can hardly believe it. You were trying to be diplomatic, weren't you, taking our side without sounding obvious about it."

Cordelia had actually been trying to sound neutral, but perhaps she hadn't managed as well as she had thought. Either that or Willow was more perceptive than Cordelia had expected. Willow was so quiet, most of the time, that it was easy to underestimate her. That was how she had been able to steal Xander.

Cordelia checked there was nobody within earshot, then replied to Willow. "Harmony's my friend, but that doesn't mean I like her. I know she only hangs with me because I'm popular, but that's better than being alone."

Willow looked disbelieving, but said nothing. After a moment's awkward silence, Cordelia decided to continue speaking. She needed to explain things, to make Willow be comfortable in her company.

"Harmony doesn't respect you. She doesn't even know who you are, any more than she knows who Buffy is. I'm different. I respect you, sort of. Your fashion sense is awful but there are slightly more important things than that. High fashion wouldn't be much comfort if the vampires won. Fashion is still very important though."

Willow smiled. "You're still Cordelia. I was beginning to wonder."

Cordelia frowned. She hoped Willow wasn't speaking literally, but a direct denial would just sound suspicious.

"I thought I explained that this morning, and yesterday too. How many time do I have to repeat myself? Finding out about vampires changes things."

"It's certainly changed you, for the better, not that you were bad before. But, um, I'm —"

Willow fell briefly silent, before continuing. It sounded to Cordelia like Willow was hiding something, though she couldn't guess what.

"I'm thinking you're trying to be friendly," Willow said, "because you still want to help Buffy so we'll all need to trust each other but you don't want to lose Harmony, or even let her know you are hanging with us."

Cordelia nodded. She was certain that wasn't what Willow had originally been about to say, but it was true.

"We'll all need to trust each other with our lives." Cordelia was confident she could manage that. Xander and Willow could both relied upon to be heroic in the face of evil. They wouldn't let her die. Cordelia could only hope that level of trust would be enough. After the way they had betrayed her, she would never be able to trust either of them in her heart. After the way she had been hurt, she doubted she would ever be able to trust anyone that way again. Still, she should be able to do everything she needed to without getting emotionally involved. That way it wouldn't hurt when they lied to her about their feelings, as she knew they would.

Willow looked thoughtful. "Xander's gone chasing after Jesse. He left me a note."

That was an obvious attempt to change the subject, but Cordelia was glad for the change.

"That's foolish, brave but foolish. What can he do?" Xander had never told Cordelia about that. It seemed there was quite a lot he hadn't told her. At least she knew he would be safe.

"He needs to do something," Willow said, as she pushed open the library doors.

* * *

Giles looked up. "Buffy?" he said hopefully.

"Just us. They not back?" Cordelia said, sounding unconcerned, as she followed Willow into the library.

"Not as yet, no."

"Well, I'm sure they're doing great," Willow said, sounding doubtful.

"Did you find anything of interest?" Giles asked.

Cordelia smiled. Giles sounded as though he had half expected Willow to have come up empty handed. He had probably asked as much to distract Willow from Xander's absence as in the hope of actually learning anything. He would soon learn though. Willow was just as good at research as he was.

Willow smiled. It seemed Giles's distraction had worked.

"I think maybe," she said. "I surfed through the old newspapers back around the time of that big earthquake in '37. For several months beforehand there was a rash of murders."

Willow handed her printouts to Giles while Cordelia sat down. He quickly looked at them, then said, "Great! I mean, well not great in a good way, but go on."

"Well, they sound like the kind you were looking for; throats, blood …" Willow fell silent, looking squeamish.

Giles frowned. "It's all coming together. I rather wish it weren't."

"So what are you thinking?" Cordelia asked.

"Wait until Buffy gets back. It'll save repetition."

It seemed to Cordelia that Giles was still trying to prevent civilians getting involved. He was giving Willow another chance to walk away from the weird stuff. Cordelia wasn't going to let him get away with that. She wasn't sure how long it had taken him to accept the slayerettes' participation in the original timeline, but she knew the faster he did the better it would be.

"It'll be lunchtime soon," Cordelia said. "You won't mind if Willow has it in here, will you Giles? I know she won't want to eat alone, with all our friends missing, and possibly dead. We can help you look stuff up in your books too."

Willow nodded, looking glum. Giles hesitated briefly, then spoke, "Of course. Um, Cordelia, shouldn't you be calling me Mr Giles?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I'm not that stuffy. We're all going to be working together a lot and Giles sounds friendlier." Cordelia turned to face Willow and smiled. "You can call me Cordy."

"To help you remember which hat you are wearing?" Willow said, then blushed. She sounded dubious, but at least she hadn't said face.

Giles sighed, sounding resigned. "Cordelia, why do you think we'll carry on working together? Once the harvest is dealt with, it will all be over."

He was clearly still trying to discourage Cordelia from getting involved. Why couldn't someone have done that the first time round? Still, this was an opportunity for her to use her foreknowledge to sound perceptive. It was a lot easier to ask the right questions when she already knew the answers, especially since she had had over a day to think of those questions.

"Why are the vampires doing this harvest thing here? There's probably some reason why they chose this town. We should expect other vampires to come here for the same reason. I've been looking at some of the old year books too."

Cordelia paused as she tried to remember the figures Willow had quoted once. "Since this school was founded, there's not been a single year with under about 10% fatalities. In my mother's year, out of about three hundred freshmen, only a third lived to graduate. That can't be natural. This town must've had a serious pest problem for a long time. I don't think it's just vampires either. When my father was in high school here he found the dead bodies of three of his friends one morning, in this library, right where we are sitting now, and they'd all had their skin peeled off and their hearts removed. Vampires don't do that, do they? I think there might be something about this town that attracts evil."

Cordelia was confident that little speech would make her look good. Giles would be impressed with her acumen and ensure she played a key role in Buffy's gang. That would make it impossible for Xander to avoid her, putting him in the perfect position for Cordelia to gain her revenge.

Giles and Willow were both looking at her. Giles spoke first, sounding slightly startled. "Well, that sounds like a variant on one of the Aztec sacrificial rituals, so the malefactors may have been human, but my research does suggest that you may be right about this town."

Willow was looking puzzled. Cordelia frowned. She hoped she hadn't appeared too knowledgeable, that would only make Willow suspicious, but she did know more than Willow, and it was proving trickier to hide that knowledge than she had first expected.

"Why haven't I heard about that before?" Willow asked. "I'd have thought that would be the kind of thing we'd all have heard rumours about, however long ago it happened."

"People forget about these things," Giles said. "If that had been the only death on campus then people would talk but from what Cordelia said about the yearbooks, I'd guess about thirty of your fellow students die each year. Most people just can't face that high a death toll, especially since the supernatural is involved; they refuse to think about it. It's easier to forget. If they remembered, they wouldn't be able to live here."

Cordelia nodded. "I only know about that incident because it's how my parents met. One of the dead boys was my father's friend and my mother's brother. They met at his funeral. My mother was weeping over the coffin and my father comforted her. He took her out for a meal and let her cry on his shoulder. Four years later they got married. It was very romantic."

Her father had only told her about the funeral though; he had probably forgotten finding the corpses. Cordelia hadn't found out the full truth until she after she had learned about the hellmouth. Learning how dangerous Sunnydale really was had made her curious about her uncle's early death. Eventually, she had persuaded Willow to check the records; she had needed to be sure it wasn't some family curse or suchlike.

Willow was looking doubtful. "Wasn't it a bit morbid, picking up a girl at a funeral?"

"It's not that unusual." By Sunnydale standards it was almost normal. Willow looked slightly shocked, but said nothing.

Giles put two of his esoteric books on the table and Cordelia began to read.

* * *

Cordelia closed the book and yawned. "It doesn't say anything about a harvest in here. I've got other things to do this lunch time, so I'll go now and let you two bond. I'll be back."

She walked briskly to the library door, peered through it to check the corridor was empty, then slipped out. It had been a dull half-hour, but worthwhile. She had taken the first steps to making Willow and Giles trust her. Soon they would be wrapped round her little finger, which would make getting revenge on Xander and Willow much easier.

She might have stayed longer, but there was one other piece of slaying business she needed to take care of, her letter for Angel. She pulled it out and reread it, smiling at her clever phrasing.

"Angelus, ex-scourge of Europe, we know of thy curse and the loophole therein. One moment of happiness will cancel the curse. We therefore most humbly advise that ye not associate overmuch with the fair sex, lest ye know pleasure. This slayer is to be aided in her task by three mortal children, Cordelia the beautiful brunette, Xander the brave clown, and Willow the quite bright. To ensure ye are never happy we suggest that ye only speak to Xander. He will relay your messages to the slayer. All three children will be present when the slayer stops the harvest. If ye also aid the slayer tonight, at the Bronze, we will give thee further advice."

Cordelia was confident nobody would think she had written that letter. She had carefully written it in a style completely different from the way she talked, trying to make it sound more like some of Giles's older books instead, and since she had signed it 'The children of Athena' Angel should assume it was from some secret society. The letter wasn't in her handwriting, and the computer file had been deleted, so there was no way it could be traced to her.

She hoped Angel would believe the letter, but it didn't really matter. She would keep on sending him anonymous letters until he did believe. Then she would be able to use him to stop bad things from happening while still keeping her distance from the action. Of course, if he did believe her first letter, that would be interesting. Xander had never liked Angel, making them work together would be partial revenge for her humiliation. Xander deserved much worse, but it was a start.

How would she know if he had believed it? Xander hadn't said but Cordelia assumed Angel had been planning to stop the harvest anyway. She would have to watch the way he behaved round Buffy. If Angel refused to look at her that would mean he believed everything. If he started flirting with her Cordelia would just need to make her next letter more convincing. She most definitely did not want to see Angel lose his soul again. That had been Buffy's biggest mistake, so far.

Cordelia tucked the letter away again. It wouldn't work unless she actually delivered it. It was ten past twelve, so she should have just enough time to walk over to Angel's, slip the letter under his door, get back to school and have lunch before her next class started, but only if she hurried.

* * *

Cordelia checked the corridor was empty, then slipped back into the library and looked around. Buffy still wasn't back yet and it was almost two o'clock.

"I bet Xander insisted on stopping for lunch," she muttered, annoyed.

Giles frowned. "Aren't you worried?"

Cordelia sat down. "Buffy's the slayer and Xander's always been lucky. Why should I worry? Made any more progress with the harvest?"

"Is there any word?" Willow said as she walked in, looking worried.

"No," Cordelia said bluntly.

"Um, well, I'd better go then. I'll check again after the next class."

Cordelia didn't really want to keep going in and out of the library. Everytime she did that she risked someone seeing her. Also, if Buffy arrived when Cordelia wasn't there, they'd start making plans without her. It would be best if she stayed in the library for the rest of the afternoon, but she didn't want to be alone with Giles. He might start asking her questions about what she had seen over the last three weeks, questions she couldn't easily answer. No, it would be best if Willow stayed in the library too. She could help with the research and, if Giles did start asking questions, Willow would probably join in, giving Cordelia more time to think.

"Don't go," Cordelia said. "You can help Giles research. You want to do something useful, don't you?"

Willow looked torn. "But class —"

"You don't need to go to class. You're clever. You could get top marks even if you slept through all your classes. Giles can write you a note. Stay here and help Buffy."

Willow wriggled uneasily, then sat at the table. "Where can I start?"

Cordelia smiled, then pulled out her make-up case.

"Cordelia," Giles said sharply, "I can't let you miss classes unless you are doing something useful."

"If I walk around with bruises people will talk. You wouldn't want that, would you. They were showing through the make-up."

Cordelia gently wiped her wrists down with a paper tissue, then reapplied the make-up to conceal her bruises. It wasn't easy but she'd had a lot of practice. Giles shrugged, a curious gleam in his eye, then passsed the girls two hefty volumes. The phone rang in his office, and he went to answer it.

* * *

Thirty minutes later everyone looked up as the library doors opened. Buffy and Xander walked in, but there was no sign of Jesse.

"Did you find Jesse?" Willow asked optimistically.

Xander nodded, but he didn't look pleased. Jesse must be dead.

Cordelia frowned, feeling slightly distressed. She had known since the previous night that he was probably dead, and he had been dead to her for the previous eighteen months anyway but he had been alive just fifteen hours earlier. She could have saved his life but she had failed. His death was her fault, and Buffy's too, of course. Xander was clearly upset, which should have pleased her, but it was for the wrong reason. Cordelia was the only one with a grievance against Xander; only she had the right to make him suffer. Seeing Xander upset, when she hadn't caused it, just made Cordelia feel uncomfortable.

"Was he dead?" Willow was sounding worried. She must have realised something had gone wrong.

"Worse," Buffy said as she sat down. "We were too late. They were waiting for us."

"At least you two got out," Willow said, trying to sound cheerful.

Cordelia watched as Xander paced round the room. He was not taking this well. She decided to distract him, rather than letting him dwell on it. "What took you so long?"

Xander turned and glared at Cordelia. "You should try walking in the sewers. I'm sure you'd feel at home. We couldn't go move very fast. It took us hours to reach Jesse and when we found him …" Xander fell silent.

Cordelia hid a smile. When she didn't give him a soft target to vent his anger on Xander tended to fume, then rush out and do something recklessly heroic. "There was nothing you could do. It's unfortunate but you'll get used to it, and to sewers."

Xander looked at Cordelia and smiled. "You think you're nasty but at least you're human. Vampires aren't. I'm going to take a stand and say vampires are all bad."

As Xander sat down Buffy turned to look at Giles. "So, Giles, what have you got that can make this day any worse?"

"How about the end of the world?" Giles said, stepping in front of the whiteboard.

"I knew I could count on you," Buffy said, smiling.

"We have two problems. First, the harvest. This is what we know," Giles began. "Sixty years ago, a very old, very powerful vampire came to this town, and not just to feed."

"He came because this town's a mystical thing," Buffy guessed.

Giles nodded. "The Spanish who first settled here called it 'Boca del Inferno'."

"The hellmouth. We live on the mouth of hell, which explains a lot," Cordelia added.

"It's a portal between this reality and the next," Giles said. "The Master hoped to open it."

"Bring the demons back," Buffy said, anticpating Giles.

"The end of the world," Xander added gloomily.

"But he blew it!" Willow smilingly said. "I mean there was an earthquake that swallowed half the town, and him too."

"You see, opening dimensional portals is a tricky business," Giles explained. "Odds are he got himself stuck like, um, a cork in a bottle."

"But the harvest can release him," Cordelia said. Buffy needed to understand the nature of the problem.

Giles nodded. "It comes once in a century, on this night. The Master can draw power from one of his minions while it feeds. Enough power to break free and open the portal. The minion is called the Vessel, and he bears this symbol."

Buffy smiled as Giles drew a three-pointed star on the whiteboard. "So we go to the Bronze and dust anyone sporting that symbol."

"Simply put, yes," Giles said. "We do have another problem though, your dream."

Buffy shuddered. "What have you found out?"

"Nothing good. Prophecy is a rare gift, but we watchers did have a seer. He killed himself yesterday, but he left a message raving about 'hideous laughter'."

"He must have had the same vision," Buffy said gloomily. "But do you know what it means?"

"Not specifically," Giles admitted, "but we do have some ideas. I've been talking to my colleague, Mr Travers. There have been other dire omens and mystical signs. All the tarot cards in our headquarters turned to dust, there were strange lights at stonehenge and Drake's drum beat twice."

Giles looked at his notepad. "There were dozens of other signs, more than we'd normally see in a year. We think some vile entity of great power cast a world-shaking spell on Monday morning, but we don't know what it did or who it was. The signs do suggest it involves a millenia-old trap and the end of the world, sometime soon."

Cordelia guessed the spell the watchers had detected had been her wish. Whatever had granted her wish must have had some ulterior motive, but it had underestimated her. It might think she would slip up, tell the bad guys about the future, and destroy the world, but she knew better. That plan wouldn't work. The watchers must have misread the omens.

"Could it be the Master who did it?" Willow asked.

"He's not powerful enough. If this entity were in Sunnydale we'd notice. It would start raining blood, or maybe worse."

That confirmed Anya herself wasn't responsible. Cordelia would have noticed if it started raining blood, but it hadn't. Perhaps it was Anya's master, if she was working for some dark power, but more likely it had nothing to do with Anya at all. Freak coincidences happened everyday on the hellmouth so perhaps it was just bad luck that the wish had sent Cordelia back to the exact time the big spell had happened. Buffy's dream must have got Cordelia's wish confused with the effects of the spell. Yes, that must be the explanation. This must just be one of those things Xander had forgotten to tell her about.

"It's important that we know, did anything unusual happen to any of you yesterday?" Giles asked.

"You mean apart from Willow being kidnapped by vampires? No," Xander said sarcastically.

Willow echoed him. "No. Nothing you don't know about."

"No," Cordelia said. Giles didn't need to know about her wish, which was quite normal by Sunnydale standards anyway.

"Are you sure?" When they had all nodded Giles sighed. "If anything unusual ever happens to any of you, tell me about it. We might be able to prevent the dream coming true. If you want to avoid the supernatural then that would be good. The watchers will even arrange for you and your families to move anywhere you like. If you put half the world between you, that might stop the dream coming true. However, it may be too late for that. It's contrary to all tradition, but Mr Travers agrees we may not be able to keep you out of the paranormal, not if destiny is involved, so, provided your motives are sound, I might be willing to consider giving you some training in dealing with it, the paranormal that is. You can help me watch Buffy, under strict supervision, and I'll try and teach you enough to give you a chance of making the right decision when this trap, whatever it is, bites. We'd prefer it if you moved to Wales though."

Cordelia wasn't certain but that sounded like a more formal arrangement than she was used to. The change must be because of something she'd done, but what? Cordelia considered the problem. It must have been that dream. Xander, Willow and herself had probably only appeared in it because of the wish, but now Giles thought that meant they were involved in the spell so he was acting differently. Still, it had worked out well. It meant that Cordelia was firmly in Buffy's gang, ideally placed to manipulate Xander. Cordelia smiled, pleased at the effect she was having on history.

"So, do we get a cool name then, like the slayer?" Xander asked. He seemed to have ignored half Giles's speech.

"Well, we're going to help Giles, so we could be apprentice watchers," Cordelia suggested jestingly. "I don't suppose we can give Buffy orders though."

"No!" Buffy sounded very firm about that, which amused Cordelia.

Xander smiled. "I knew you'd want to be giving orders."

"We won't have to wear tweed, will we?" Cordelia continued, half-faking horror at the thought.

"No," Giles said dismissively. "I think people might find that a little odd. You must continue to act normally."

Willow smiled, then spoke. "Buffy's the slayer, so we could be the slayerettes, or would watcherlets sound better?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Very amusing. Are you forgetting about the harvest? Let's go to the Bronze now."

"Without a plan?" Giles asked rhetorically. "It's several hours till sunset. That gives us time to plan for the harvest, and to confirm that these three are suitable."

"Suitable? What do you mean?" Xander sounded slightly worried.

"We need to be sure you are reliable before we start counting on you to do your part," Giles said. "If you are likely to run away when the going gets tough you would just be a liability. There's no shame in it though; few people can stand the strain of my job. If you decided to use the dark arts for personal gain that would be worse."

Giles should know. He'd killed people with magic in the past. Xander was also capable of abusing magic, as Cordelia knew from her own experience. Even Buffy had run away once.

For that matter, Cordelia realised, her plans to avoid the weird stuff could have been seen as a way of running away from the truth. It didn't matter though. While Cordelia understood Giles's motives, he wasn't the one who decided who would be in Buffy's gang. All Buffy's friends would get in anyway. In the original history Giles had probably realised that before he could start questioning her friends' suitability, but in this altered history things were bound to be slightly different.

"There's no need for that," Buffy said. "I trust them. Xander followed me into a vampire lair, Willow has been helping you research, and Cordelia was brave last night. None of them are going to run away and I'm sure they won't do anything wrong. You don't need to ask them insulting questions."

That was flattering, but Buffy didn't know them well enough to say so yet. She must have ulterior motives. People normally did.

"Buffy needs normal friends, and she's not going to let you choose them," Cordelia said, interpreting Buffy's statement. "We are all normal, compared with Buffy, and we quite like her. With us, she can try and have a normal life, when she's not slaying. That way she can be Buffy, not just the slayer."

Cordelia was only paraphrasing things Buffy herself had said in the future, but from the smile on Buffy's face she could tell that her apparent insight into Buffy's mind was scoring points. Xander was also looking at Cordelia, apparently confused by her acumen.

"Slaying isn't a hobby; it is a sacred duty. Buffy can't have a normal life," Giles said. He was probably still hoping he could persuade Buffy to act more like Kendra. Cordelia knew that, the first time round, he had lost that argument within days of meeting Buffy, maybe less. This time would be no different. Giles would be taking the slayerettes' participation in the weird stuff for granted within a week.

"I will have a normal life," Buffy said firmly. "Willow and Xander are my friends, and Cordelia too."

Buffy glanced at Cordelia. "Sorry, but you came off a bit weird yesterday. Anyway, I want to have normal friends, and cheerlead, and other normal stuff. Giles, you are stuck with these three slayerettes. I don't want to involve them in anything dangerous, but I'm not going to let you force them away."

Willow nodded. "When you know something like this, you can't just walk away. Everyone needs friends, real friends, and that includes Buffy. She needs people who will be there for her, and you're too old. It's not the same. Not that you are old or anything. It's just that well, um. Anyway I'm going to help anyway I can."

"We'll all do our bit. Willow is good with computers. Xander can keep us smiling and he can be brave," Cordelia said, thinking of the things she had seen them both do. What could she say about herself? She couldn't tell them the best reason.

Xander interrupted. "And you, Cordelia? What will your amazing contribution be? A new cheerleading routine?"

"You might not like me yet," Cordelia replied, "but we're all on the same side now. Try and act like it." Cordelia shrugged. "I can be helpful. I'll stop any rumours about Buffy dead. Nobody believes any gossip in this school unless I tell them to. I'll do what I can, as long as it's not icky. If you need any autopsies done, ask Willow. She probably reads medical textbooks."

Giles started polishing his glasses, a clear sign he didn't like the way the conversation was going.

"It would be more productive if I discussed this with each of you individually later. We can worry about the dream when we've got a better idea what it means. Willow, can you get floor plans of the Bronze and a map of the nearby sewers? If we can stop the vampires from reaching the Bronze they won't be able to start the harvest."

Willow went over to the computer and began typing.

"Can you think of a way of keeping people out of the Bronze?" Giles asked.

Willow looked up. "Cordelia has been telling people the Bronze is unfashionable."

"You are good for something then," Xander said, unconvincingly. "That might keep your friends out. What about everyone else?"

"We could ring the fire alarm," Buffy suggested.

Willow printed out the blueprints and the group began talking.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky when Buffy, Cordelia and the rest arrived at the Bronze. Cordelia looked around and smiled. The entire street was in deep shadow. Nobody would notice her talking to Willow when the street was this dark nor would they remember what happened when the action started so Cordelia's reputation should be safe.

"Does everyone know what they're doing?" Giles asked. "Remember, only Buffy will fight."

Buffy nodded. "When the vamps come you get the people out. That's all. Don't go all wild bunch on me."

"Of course," Xander said unconvincingly. "Let's have the weapons."

Buffy handed each of them a cross, a jar of holy water, and a small stake, then said, "Don't chase the vampires. Self defence only."

Angel stepped into view, startling everyone. Cordelia hadn't expected to see him until after sunset. Still, he was standing in the shade, so he was safe enough. She wondered what he was doing here. He might have come in response to her letter but Cordelia wasn't sure. For all she knew, he might have gone to the Bronze in the original history too. Xander hadn't said and her own memories of that night were vague. She was fairly sure nobody knew he was a vampire but she didn't even know if he had met Buffy or Giles yet.

"Giles, this is Angel." Buffy said. "He's the one who told me about the harvest last night. What are you doing here?"

Giles looked curious. "How did you know?"

Angel smiled mysteriously.

"Xander, Willow and Cordelia, I believe," Angel said, looking at each of them in turn. "They said you three would help the slayer. Do you know what you are doing, the risk you are facing?"

Xander and Willow both looked surprised when Angel named them, Buffy just looked annoyed, but Giles looked puzzled.

"How do you know their names? Who said?" he asked. "Who are you?"

"I'm Angel." He smiled again. "These three were in the graveyard last night, and Darla died. You can be certain the Master knows their names. Darla was high in his favour; he would not be pleased by her death."

"But we didn't do anything. It was Buffy who killed her. I wasn't even there." Willow seemed flustered.

"The Master doesn't care. You know, that is enough. He will kill the strong and brave, keeping the weak and cowardly to feed on. Helping the slayer means you will be first in line to die, after her."

Xander looked impatient. "You here to help us, or just to play games? We haven't got time for this. The vampires could be here anytime."

"I can't fight," Angel said.

Cordelia raised one eyebrow in disbelief. Angel was almost as good a fighter as Buffy. Cordelia supposed he had some reason for not fighting, perhaps to conceal his being a vampire, but she had been counting on his contribution. The sooner he started taking an active part in the slaying, rather than just making cryptic comments, the better.

"We aren't planning to fight either and we don't have any spare weapons for you anyway. We're just going to evacuate people when the vampires arrive. You can help us with that, if you want to be useful," Cordelia said firmly, glaring at Angel. "You won't have to fight. Leave that to Buffy."

Buffy nodded. Angel looked at her, his face unreadable, then asked, "What's your plan?"

* * *

Cordelia looked around the Bronze, waiting for the vampires. The club was full of people dancing, completely unaware of the danger they were in. They didn't know how lucky they were.

"There should have been some way of keeping these people away," she said.

Buffy looked at her. "I know, but we couldn't think of one."

After much discussion they had ruled out a hoax fire alarm since they didn't know when the vampires would come. Giles suspected it would be early, which fitted with Cordelia's vague memories of the night, but they couldn't be certain. The vampires could arrive anytime before midnight; a hoax alarm couldn't keep the Bronze empty for all that time. At least none of Cordelia's flock were there yet; that rumour seemed to have worked.

"It's just all these people. You're the only thing between them and death but they don't know the danger."

"Aren't they lucky?" Buffy replied.

Cordelia and Buffy had been stood by the Bronze's back entrance for the last ten minutes. If the vampires tried to come in that way Buffy would just kill them all before they could enter, at least that was the plan. If it worked nobody in the Bronze would be in any danger.

"Are you sure that lock's broken?" Cordelia asked.

Buffy nodded. "Cordelia, you need to relax," she said, sounding oddly tetchy. "If you keep this up, it will be a very long night."

Cordelia looked up at the balcony, where the other four were. Angel and Giles both seemed uneasy, but Xander and Willow looked relaxed. If the vampires came in through the front the balcony gang would signal, giving a few extra seconds warning. It wouldn't be much but anything they could do that gave Luke less time to feed was worthwhile. Those few seconds might mean one life saved; they might be enough to stop the Master rising.

When Giles signalled Buffy would move to fight the vampires before they could hurt anyone, while Cordelia and the rest of the gang ushered the bystanders out of the back door. Cordelia knew she didn't really need to be stood by Buffy but it felt safer. She had persuaded Giles that it would attract too much attention if she was seen on the balcony with Xander and Willow, as well as the school librarian. It wasn't as if she was completely useless where she was; she could keep Buffy company, Xander had suggested she could fetch Buffy drinks and, most usefully, if the vampires came in the back she could signal the balcony.

* * *

A few minutes later Giles started waving frantically from the balcony.

Cordelia nudged Buffy. "They're coming in the front."

"They would," Buffy groaned, then ran to meet the vampires.

Cordelia pulled out her cross and looked around, waiting. She could just see Luke pushing his way through the crowd to the stage. She smiled. It seemed Luke wanted to make a big production out of the harvest, very foolish of him. If he had started feeding immediately, he could have drained at least one person by now but instead he'd decided to make a speech.

"Ladies and gentleman, there is no cause for alarm," Luke began.

Cordelia stopped listening. Buffy would take care of Luke, but Cordelia had a more urgent problem of her own. A vampire was moving towards her, coming to block the back entrance. Cordelia shrank back against the wall and tried not to be noticed. The vampire pulled out a key and turned it in the door, then walked away. It hadn't noticed the lock had been broken, but then most vampires were stupid.

Cordelia waited till the vampire was gone, then pushed the door open. Everyone was staring at the stage. The teenagers were in the centre of the crowd, frozen in fear by the sight of Luke's vampire face. Surrounding them, the other vampires stood, their faces rapt as they watched Luke. They didn't seem to be expecting any resistance, always a big mistake. Cordelia caught a glimpse of Xander sneaking round the edge of the crowd. Luke had grabbed the bouncer but he was still speaking.

"Watch me, people," Luke ranted. "Fear is like an elixir —"

Buffy interrupted Luke's speech, bounding onto the stage.

"You!" Luke cried, dropping the bouncer.

"You didn't think I'd miss this, did you, Vessel boy?" Buffy moved to attack Luke.

All the vampires were distracted now, busy watching the fight. Cordelia moved towards the crowd and began ushering people towards the exit. With Giles and the rest doing the same, most of the crowd escaped before the vampires realised their prisoners were getting away.

Jesse looked round, puzzled. "Where'd everyone go?" Then he noticed her. "Cordelia, this is your lucky night."

Alerted by Jesse, the other vampires turned to face the rest of the slayerettes. The crowd, freed of the vampires' restraining presence, bolted for the door.

Jesse walked slowly towards Cordelia, looking almost menacing. If she had had less experience with vampires she might have been terrified. Instead she laughed and brandished her cross. She knew she couldn't beat Jesse in a fair fight, but she wouldn't have to. Angel would easily win his fight, then rescue the rest of them. She1 just had to hold out for a minute.

Jesse snarled at the cross, then grabbed her arm by the wrist and twisted. As Cordelia dropped the cross Jesse pulled her close to him. He wrapped one arm round her waist, tilting her head with his other hand.

"Tonight I will give you your fondest dream," Jesse whispered. "You will never grow old. Your beauty will never wither. Tomorrow you will thank me, and your body will be mine."

"Ego much?" Cordelia snapped, elbowing Jesse in the stomach and stamping on his foot, then tried to pull away.

"Hold still. You're not making this easy."

"Jesse man. Don't make me do it." Xander stepped into view behind Jesse, a stake just visible in his hand.

Jesse turned to face Xander, still holding Cordelia in an iron grip. She looked around, wondering how he had gotten to her first. Angel had armed himself with a pool cue and was managing to keep three vampires at bay, Giles and Willow were wrestling with a third vampire and Buffy was still fighting Luke. Two more vampire were skulking round the stage, apparently waiting for a chance to help Luke.

"Jesse, I know there's part of you still in there. Don't do it."

Cordelia groaned. Giles had explained this repeatedly but Xander still refused to believe the Jesse he had known was dead.

"Xander! Remember what Giles said. This is the thing that killed Jesse. Kill it, now."

Xander ignored her. "Jesse, can't you remember who you were?"

Jesse looked contemptuous. "Let's deal with this. Jesse was an excrutiating loser who couldn't get a date in the sighted community. I'm a new man."

Xander lifted his stake, pointing it at Jesse's heart, then hesitated again.

"You can't kill me. You don't have the guts." Jesse sounded triumphant.

Cordelia sighed. Jesse had already mastered the vampire art of extreme overconfidence. Ignoring the stake was the worst thing he could have done. He was holding her conveniently close so she just shoved him forwards. Jesse stumbled and fell onto Xander's stake, instantly vanishing in a puff of dust.

Xander looked disturbed. Seeing your best friend die couldn't be easy. He had never talked about it but Cordelia had noticed the shape of his silence. There were topics he would not discuss, memories he did not acknowledge, a void in his life.

Cordelia was sure the memory of Jesse lay at the centre of that void. She wished there was something she could say, something that would ease the pain she saw newly born in his eyes, but she could find no words to soothe him.

She settled for distraction. "How did you get free so fast?"

Xander smiled. "He lost his head." Xander waved one hand dismissively and, his voice warm with humour, added, "All in a day's work for Xander, vampire hunter extraordinaire."

Cordelia smiled. Xander might only be joking to hide his pain, perhaps even from himself, but at least it showed he was coping.

"If you've quite finished with the self-congratulation," she said, her gentle tone belying her words, "perhaps there are other damsels in need of your aid."

Giles and Willow were standing up, brushing the vampire dust off themselves. Buffy was still busy with Luke on the stage, but there were no other vampires left up there. Angel still had one opponent left, which was a surprise. Cordelia had been expecting him to have killed them all minutes ago. Cordelia looked more closely at Angel. She was no expert but he seemed less adept than she remembered. His time on the hellmouth must have improved his technique.

Seeing that Xander had gone to talk to Willow and Giles, Cordelia followed him.

"He's doing well for someone who didn't want to fight," Willow said as Angel rolled across the pool table. "Shouldn't we be helping him?"

"Killing Luke comes first. He is the vessel," Giles reminded them, coldly pragmatic.

"How?" Xander asked.

"I've still got my holy water," Cordelia said.

Giles took the jar from her and threw it at Luke, hitting his head. While Luke was distracted Buffy threw a stake through his heart.

His last opponent finally dead, Angel looked up at the gloom.

"She did it!" he said, then vanished into the shadows.

Buffy jumped off the stage and walked toward Giles.

"Did we win?" Willow asked.

"Well, we averted the apocalypse. I've got to give us points for that." Buffy sounded cheerful.

"And nobody died," Cordelia said. "That's always good." It was certainly an improvement on the original history.

"One thing's for sure; nothing is going to be the same again," Xander said.

"Want to bet?" Cordelia asked, smiling. "We'd better go before the police get here, investigating 'gang' activity."

Xander looked at Buffy. "You're the slayer. What should we do now?"

Buffy smiled. "Go home. Cordelia's right."

* * *

"See," Cordelia said the next morning, looking at Xander. "This is still the same."

With a wave of her hand Cordelia pointed to the entire campus. The rest of the students were just sitting there, completely oblivious to the near apocalypse of the night before, just as Cordelia herself had once done, eighteen long months ago.

"People have a tendancy to rationalise what they can and forget what they can't," Giles explained.

Cordelia nodded. She knew she shouldn't be risking talking to Buffy's gang in public, but after last night's excitement she needed to spend a few moments in the company of people who could appreciate what she had done.

"Believe me, I've seen it happen," Buffy said, backing Giles up.

"Well, I'll never forget it, not a bit of it." Willow sounded slightly excited, probably still high on adrenaline.

"Good. Next time you will be prepared." Giles was perfectly calm.

"Next time?"

"Next time is why?" Xander and Willow both seemed startled by that idea. They must have forgotten what Giles had said about the hellmouth.

"We've prevented the Master from freeing himself and opening the mouth of Hell. That doesn't mean he's going to stop trying. There's also Buffy's dream, whatever that meant. I'd say the fun is just beginning."

"More vampires?" Willow asked.

"Not just vampires," Giles replied. "The next threat we face may be something quite different."

Cordelia smiled. "Oh, good. Just vampires would get boring."

"We're at the centre of a mystical convergence here," Giles said, apparently excited by the thought. "We may be all that stands between the earth and its total destruction."

"Well, I've got to look on the bright side," Buffy said. "I could still get kicked out of school."

As Buffy, Xander and Willow headed off to class Giles listened to their jokes, then groaned, "The earth is doomed."

"It couldn't be in safer hands," Cordelia assured him. Thanks to her wish, the future was in her hands. Fortunately, she was the perfect person for the job.

"Shouldn't you be going to class with them?" Giles asked.

"Me? Be seen with them?" Cordelia said scornfully. "In public? A werewolf on campus would attract less attention. They're good people, and I'm sure we'll enjoy saving the world together, but I'm not going to alter my lifestyle just because we live on a hellmouth. If I did it would've won another victory. I'm going to live a normal life, despite the hellmouth, and that means I can't be seen with them too much. I shouldn't be talking to you outside the library either."

Cordelia walked off, thinking about the future. She had handled the harvest pretty well. Jesse had still died, but nobody else had. Next time she would do better. Next time would be what? There had been trouble at the cheerleading tryouts but Xander had told her all about that. Buffy's dream hadn't been resolved yet but Cordelia was confident it couldn't be too important. Then there was Principal Flutie to save, Marcie Ross to deal with, vengeance on Xander and much more besides.

Cordelia smiled. She would soon get everything she deserved. Nothing would ever go wrong for her again.


	4. Fighting Fog: Weekend hobbies

Xander looked round the Bronze, waiting for Willow. It all seemed so normal. Only two nights earlier it had been the scene of an apocalyptic struggle, with the fate of the world on the line. Now it was filled with partying teens who had forgotten anything unusual had ever happened. All they remembered was vague stories about gangs on PCP, just as Cordelia and Buffy had predicted. Only his friends remembered the truth, his friends and Cordelia. Everyone else had forgotten, or at least pretended to. Why? Why were they special?

Well, he knew why Buffy remembered. She was the slayer, a real-life superhero in his own school, and beautiful too. Xander smiled as he thought about her. She was the most beautiful girl in school, and yet she was willing to talk to him. That alone was reason enough for Xander to remember everything. If he had convinced himself the Harvest had just been a bad dream that would have stopped him getting close to her. But there was more to it than that; remembering meant he could help fight the monsters, help save lives, even save the world. Really, there had been no choice at all.

Willow too had remembered, just as inevitably as Xander himself. Giles had said most people couldn't bear to face the truth, but she had never hidden from the truth. She lived for it, yearning to learn, and the occult was a brand new field for her to explore. Once she had gotten over her initial fears she'd been thrilled to realise there was so much she hadn't known, so much she could learn about. It wasn't an attitude Xander could understand, but Willow had always been like that. Of course, even without that reward, she would still have wanted to help Buffy. It was the right thing to do and she always did the right thing. Willow remembering made sense.

The real question, the question that had been nagging at him for three days, the question he just couldn't get out of his mind, was 'Why Cordelia?' She said she had noticed the vampires when Brian died, but that would have been just a struggle half glimpsed in a dimly lit alley. She could easily have dismissed that as no more than a trick of the light, but instead she had remembered. Why? Why would Cordelia want to remember? Everything was perfect in Cordelia's world. What she wanted she got. Facing the truth about vampires had spoiled that for her; it had made her desperate enough to look for his help. Wouldn't it have been easier for her to forget? It just didn't make any sense, and yet that was just the start of Cordelia's weirdness.

Xander glanced at Cordelia, sitting at a table with all her old friends. She had been looking his way, but the moment he looked at her she grimaced and turned to face Harmony. The scene looked almost normal, Cordelia holding court, but it wasn't quite right. Cordelia looked slightly stiff, like an actress trying to remember her lines. Xander suspected Cordelia was having trouble keeping the secret. Strange, when she had already kept it for three weeks. Fortunately, Cordelia's behaviour was only subtly off, and her friends were too busy nodding to notice. Cordelia could still pass for her normal self, at least in public. In private it was a different story.

In private Cordelia was weird, at least since Monday. Her personality had changed in ways even discovering vampires couldn't account for. Cordelia had always seemed a heartless bitch obsessed with social status but now she was actually being halfway pleasant. She had even shown traces of compassion. Xander wouldn't have believed it was possible had he not seen the sympathy in her eyes for himself. Cordelia had always had less empathy than the average rock, but she was suddenly showing Freudlike pschyological insight. Buffy herself had said it was as if Cordelia had read her mind, yet the two had only just met.

Discovering vampires were real couldn't explain that. Cordelia had never done anything to help others before, but on Monday she had risked her life trying to help Xander's friend. She had been prepared to fight a vampire for the sake of someone she had always despised. It was unbelievable, but it had happened. Then there was her attitude to the occult. She was so blasé about it, for someone with just three weeks experience, and she had learnt quite a bit too.

"She's looking at you again," Willow said as she sat down next to Xander.

Xander didn't have to ask who Willow was talking about. He glanced back in her direction, but Cordelia avoided his gaze.

"Cordelia has been a little different this week," Willow suggested tentatively, looking shyly down at the table.

"Different?" Xander said disbelievingly. "Different is a new dress. This is Jeckyll and Hyde land."

Willow nodded. "Literally? Giles did say the hellmouth attracted the bizarre."

Xander blinked. He hadn't considered that possibility. "Like the new Cordelia. But she's trying to be nice. The hellmouth doesn't do nice."

"She could have an ulterior motive," Willow suggested.

"So she's some kind of evil freak. Not much change there. Let's tell Giles." Then they could get rid of Cordelia.

"Um, no, we've only got gossip, not hard evidence, and she's charmed Buffy, and, well, it would be awkward. We don't want a fuss. Also, Cordelia might still be on our side. There's something we don't know but it might be good, like the way the slayer is a secret."

Xander smiled briefly. Willow really was a good person, doing her best to be fair to Cordelia even though she loathed her.

"You haven't said anything to Giles, have you?" Willow added hurriedly.

Xander tried to imagine that conversation. "I couldn't. He doesn't know us, and he's almost a teacher."

Willow smiled. "Good. It's an interesting problem, but I will solve it. Cordelia is obviously trying to hide something from us, but I won't let her. She can't outwit me. I will find out what's going on and I won't need any help from Giles."

Xander looked at Willow's resolute face. When she was like that there was no stopping her. Willow really enjoyed solving problems, and Cordelia had inadvertently posed Willow a challenge she would soon regret. Cordelia didn't stand a chance; she was no genius.

"Hack her computer?" Xander suggested, feeling he ought to make a contribution.

"Cordelia doesn't know how to use computers," Willow said, then paused, looking thoughtful. "Or she didn't. She's been doing better in class since Monday. Apparently, discovering vampires are real has taught her extra math. I'll look round her files, see if I can find anything incriminating. Good idea."

It hadn't been his idea at all; it had been Willow's. The best ideas always were.

"We should just play along with her for now," Willow added. "Give her more chances to give herself away."

Xander nodded. It would mean spending more time with Cordelia but, now that she was pretending to care, her company was bearable, and, since she didn't want to be seen talking to him in public, she might decide to hold more conversations in closets. He certainly wouldn't mind that. Despite her repulsive personality Cordelia was physically attractive, though nowhere near as beautiful as Buffy. When she had pulled him into that closet, leaned close to him and gently touched his lips, well, that had been material for a week of pleasant dreams. He'd had to swap Buffy's face for Cordelia's, and cut the unromantic conversation, but still ...

Xander smiled in pleasant reverie.

The gleam of bare flesh caught Xander's eye. Buffy was walking across the Bronze, towards his table, showing a delicious length of leg. She sat down opposite him, then glanced over at Cordelia, looking sympathetic. Xander decided to speak before Buffy said anything about Cordelia. He didn't want to spend the whole night talking about that.

"So, as Buffy comes looking for a normal night out, will it be third time lucky for our hero? The record so far, two nights at the Bronze, two fights with vampires. Let's ask the Buffster herself," Xander said, trying to imitate a sports commentator.

"Xander," Buffy smiled. "Don't jinx it. I want a normal night."

The friends began talking.

* * *

An hour later Buffy was speaking. "So, I took my knife and-"

Something howled outside the Bronze, stopping Buffy mid-sentence, and sending shivers down Xander's spine. No dog sounded like that. It howled again, louder, closer, and the Bronze fell silent.

"What is that?" Willow whispered.

Buffy shrugged. "Not a vampire." She began to rummage in her bag, probably looking for a weapon.

The bouncer screamed. People began backing away from the main entrance, their faces white. Xander stood up and peered over the crowd.

"Uh-oh. Buffy, I think we've got trouble."

It looked wolf-shaped, perhaps seven foot high at the shoulder and glowing green. It slowly stalked across the floor, growling, its teeth gleaming in the dim light.

Buffy looked at the monster and groaned. "Giles didn't give me anything for green wolves: plenty of stakes, but no steaks. Brute force it is."

Unarmed, Buffy ran towards the monster. Xander followed her, trying to think of something he could do. He wanted to help Buffy in her fight, but those teeth looked sharp. Buffy jumped at the monster, punching its left flank. Her arm sank into the mists, right up to the elbow, but it just twitched slightly, then kicked Buffy backwards. Xander crouched down, behind a table.

The monster hadn't been hurt at all. Why not? As Xander looked more closely he realised the thing wasn't solid. It was made from glowing green fog, coiling endlessly in unsettling patterns, but confined within the shape of a wolf. Weird. The teeth looked solid though, like metal, and its feet had been solid enough to knock Buffy backwards. It definitely looked lethal, but how could Buffy kill it? At least it was slow.

The monster paused in the middle of the dance floor, looked at the people cowering against the walls, then headed straight towards Cordelia. Clearly it had good taste, but even Cordelia didn't deserve to be eaten alive by a giant green wolf-thing. Cordelia's friends just sat there, frozen in terror, but Cordelia didn't seem that scared. She stood up, threw her glass at the monster, then ran over towards Xander.

As the glass bounced off the monster it clinked.

"Great," Cordelia said, glaring at him. "Can't you go two nights without weirdness? I should have been told about this."

"Oh," Xander drawled, "you want the monsters to make appointments?"

Cordelia looked briefly flustered, then replied, "That's what the prophecies are."

"Did you see that?" Willow said, coming up behind them. "The glass bounced. There must be something solid inside that thing."

Buffy ran in front of the monster, then stood facing it in a defensive posture. The monster crouched, then sprang, leaping over Buffy, and landing on the table, which immediately collapsed under its weight. Xander grabbed Willow and dived to one side. The monster shook itself free of the wreckage of the table, then turned to face Cordelia.

"Don't ignore me, foggy-dog. I'm the slayer, fight me." Buffy sounded annoyed.

"Buffy," Willow shouted, "It's solid inside. Try the legs."

Buffy swiftly kicked the monster's left ankle, her foot slashing through the fog, but then she hit something solid, and the monster whimpered. As the lumbering beast turned to face the slayer she snatched up a broken table leg and clubbed the creature over the head, the blow landing with a loud metallic ring.

The monster put both forepaws on Buffy's shoulders and roared. Her knees buckled slightly under the weight, but then she twisted, shrugging the monster off. It fell sideways, landing on Cordelia.

Before the thing could struggle upright Buffy attacked it, beating it around the head and neck. After a flurry of vicious blows, she finally kicked the thing's head right off its body. The fog immediately rippled and vanished. Xander caught a quick glimpse of a skeleton, but that swiftly crumbled into dust. Only the skull remained, shimmering in the dim light.

Cordelia was coughing but she seemed unharmed. Buffy helped her off the floor.

"That fog tasted horrible. I nearly choked." Cordelia brushed herself down, then nudged the skull with her foot. "That looks like silver."

How could Cordelia sound so calm? Her life had been in danger but she sounded like it had been some minor inconvenience, nothing unusual.

"What now?" Willow asked, looking at Buffy.

"We pick up the remains, for Giles," Cordelia said, sounding slightly bitter. "Why did it attack me?"

"Good taste?" Xander joked, wondering what the real answer was.

Cordelia twitched, then smiled. "Well, I am the best dressed person here."

Buffy looked at them both and sighed. "Is the Bronze always this exciting?"

* * *

"Interesting," Giles said, examining the skull, "Most interesting."

The gang had assembled in the library again, early in the morning. Really it was too early for Xander's liking; it wasn't natural to be in school before 7:57, but Willow hadn't wanted to wait.

"But what was it? And why did it pick on me?" Cordelia said, scowling.

Buffy looked puzzled. "I've been slaying for more than a year now, and I've seen some pretty weird things, but nothing like this. Everything else was solid; they all bled. This was different."

"We are on the hellmouth," Giles reminded them. "It attracts evil. There's a veritable cornucopia of fiends and ghouls and demons to engage. Still, I think this time the hellmouth had help."

Xander looked disbelievingly at Giles. How could he be so excited by the prospect of endless fighting? Buffy and Willow appeared to be thinking the same thing, but Cordelia had an amused smile.

"Pardon me for finding the glass half full." Giles didn't sound very apologetic.

"So, what is it?" Willow asked, curious as ever.

"A skeleton with a silver skull shrouded by an emerald mist in the shape of a giant wolf?" Giles sounded as if he were quoting.

Buffy and Cordelia nodded impatiently.

"There's only one thing that meets that description, a nimbuan demon wolf. They normally come in large packs, but they are supposed to be confined to the Isles of Mist." Giles picked a book off the shelves and laid it open on the table. "They eat shipwrecked sailors."

The picture showed four sailors in ragged clothing with their backs to a cliff, surrounded by dozens of the wolves. The beach was covered in human skulls.

"Nice place," Buffy said. "Where is it?"

Giles smiled. "According to legend, 'East of the Sun, west of the Moon; Twelve leagues beyond the gates of noon; There lies the land of Merlin's birth; Where demon-lords still walk the earth.' It's not part of the normal world. It's like Avalon; a half-myth, just beyond the edge of our reality."

Willow squealed with joyful amazement. "Merlin's real?"

"Yes, and no," Giles said, smiling. "There is some truth in the legends, but most of the popular stories were invented by overimaginative bards. The truth is complicated," Giles paused and looked at the faces of his audience, "but not really relevant today."

"They come in large packs? Is the rest of the pack out there?" Cordelia looked concerned.

"I can't say," Giles admitted. "Even with the hellmouth, the wolf shouldn't have been able to get here. There are certain barriers that keep the denizens of the Isles from this world. People can come and go freely, if they know the hidden seas, but the demons have to stay there. Their magic can reach into this world a little way, enough to trick badly lost ships into their world, but that's all. The hellmouth isn't quite strong enough to breech those barriers. The wolf must have been brought here by someone, and they might have brought dozens more."

Xander was glad Giles had finished his lecture. He had enough of that during classes.

"The Master?" Willow asked tentatively.

"No," Giles said. "He's trapped in the hellmouth. He couldn't work this kind of spell while trapped. In fact, I've never heard of anyone ever summoning one of these before. There must be a very powerful witch in Sunnydale. Fortunately the wolves are pretty harmless, as demons go. There are said to be creatures in the Isles that could single-handedly lay waste a town this size 'in the space of five heartbeats.' Those accounts aren't entirely reliable but if the witch manages to bring one of the more powerful demons we'll have quite a problem."

That was enough talking. Xander wanted action. "What do we do?"

"The demon wolves can easily be killed by beheading." Giles paused and looked directly at Buffy. "Remember, when in doubt, decapitate. Not many demons can survive decapitation."

Buffy nodded, but Giles continued speaking. "Buffy will have no problems handling them; now that she knows the procedure. The witch will be harder to deal with. There are tests for suspected witches but there's no easy way to locate one in a crowd. We can't test all Sunnydale. Oh, and we'll need to bury the heads in a graveyard or they'll come back to life at sunset."

"But what can I do?"

Cordelia smiled wryly at Xander. "We can't fight. If you want to be useful, help Giles." She tilted her head in a thoughtful pose. "Willow could make a database of the weird deaths and disappearances in Sunnydale this decade, and we could look for patterns; people whose rivals all die mysteriously, ritual murders every October, houses where all the owners died violently. We might find some suspects for the witch that way."

That sounded tedious. Finding out what weird things had been happening without his noticing would be interesting, but not if it meant hours of boring research.

"Ooh. We could find other bad things too, before they find us," Willow said, predictably excited at the prospect of a research marathon.

"Well, I'm not sure it would be that useful in identifying the witch," Giles sounded doubtful. "Pre-emptive action is good strategy though. Just print me out a paper copy."

Willow winced. "Um, well, that could be hundreds of pages. Can't you use a computer database?"

"Giles?" Cordelia laughed dismissively. "Computers aren't traditional. If he starts using them, we've got real problems."

Cordelia sounded very sure of herself, considering she had only known Giles for three days.

Giles nodded. "Paper is more human, more real."

* * *

When Xander next saw Willow she looked hyper.

"I've found out Cordelia's secret, or part of it anyway," Willow quickly said as they walked toward the cafeteria. "You'll never believe it, but we can't talk here. Walls have ears, not literal ears I mean, unless with the hellmouth, but children's ears. We have to talk, tonight, my house. This is going to be fun. Labyrinthine webs of intrigue will make a really interesting problem. Just don't tell anyone. We aren't here, we haven't spoken, and you know nothing, OK?"

Xander smiled. The last sentence was certainly true. He had no idea what Willow had discovered, but it certainly had her excited. He hadn't seen her this hyped since she first got a modem. He didn't expect to find whatever Willow had discovered as thrilling as she obviously did, but she had made him curious. Perhaps he could get Willow to spill the truth, it was clear she could barely keep the secret even without prompting, but the school might be too public a place. He would just have to wait.

"So, are we going to the library?" Xander asked, changing the subject.

Before Buffy arrived Xander had never gone into a library if he could help it but now things were different. It was starting to feel almost welcoming, a refuge from the world. It was a place where he mattered.

Willow nodded. "I've compiled that database Cordelia suggested."

* * *

When they reached the library Buffy was already there, wearing a flattering top. Cordelia was there too, talking.

She broke off her conversation and asked, "Got the database done?"

Willow smiled broadly. "Gigabytes of it. A few thousand deaths and disappearances, with full crime scene reports, pictures of the victims and every file I could find that mentioned the victims in their final week."

Willow looked smugly at Giles. "I could print it all out, but there would be several thousand pages."

Buffy looked staggered. "How many years did you go back?"

"Just four," Willow said, "then the database ran out of room."

"That's one big heap of corpses," Cordelia said, sounding surprised. "There must be enough monsters here for a dozen slayers."

Xander hid a smile. If Cordelia had really been surprised, she'd have tried to hide her reaction. She thought she was tricky, but Willow could see right through her.

"The hellmouth calls, and they come," Giles reminded them. "That database may prove useful but it's too big to analyse in one lump. We'll have to extract the immediately relevant bits now and peruse the rest when we have time."

"I don't have to be at the keyboard for it to work," Willow pointed out. "The computer can be searching while we sleep."

"I know," Cordelia announced with unconvincing enthusiasm, "Why not print out the last 30 people who have disappeared, with pictures. They'll have been vamped, so if we see them we can run to Buffy."

Not a bad idea, but it wouldn't help them find a witch.

Willow nodded rapidly. "Ooh yes. Isn't that a brilliant idea Xander?"

Giles looked at both of the girls, a curious frown on his face. Willow's enthusiasm sounded almost as fake as Cordelia's. It was obviously because of whatever secret Willow had uncovered. Xander decided to play along, for now. Willow would be explaining everything that evening. In the meantime he would just have to follow her lead, but with better acting.

"Yes," Xander looked at Cordelia and asked, "Did thinking it up hurt?"

Cordelia might have found a good idea somewhere, but Xander didn't want her to think he'd gone soft. Cordelia was bossy; give her half a chance and she'd have all the gang following her orders, except for Giles. Xander had to show her that, if she insisted in being in the gang, he would fight her dominance every step of the way, for Willow's sake. Besides, Jesse had died because of her; for that alone she deserved to suffer a few extra insults.

Cordelia just smiled, claiming the moral high ground.

Willow coughed. "Um, Giles, what search criteria should I use to identify possible witch activity?"

"Print out my list first," Cordelia said, "And a copy for Buffy. She needs to recognise likely vampires too. Xander, is there anything you can be doing?"

Xander bristled at her tone, but Giles replied first.

"Willow," he said, "you may follow Cordelia's advice, this time. Xander, Cordelia; once you've both familiarised yourself with those possible vampires I will find something useful for you to do, if you are sure you want to help."

* * *

Ten minutes later Cordelia looked up from the printouts.

"Marcie Ross? I don't remember her. Are you sure this is accurate?" Cordelia said, feigning surprise again.

Xander looked at his copy. Marcie was a girl in his year who had vanished a few months earlier. He didn't remember her either but what was so surprising about that?

A smile flickered across Willow's face, then she looked thoughtful. "Why should you remember her?"

Cordelia frowned. "I remember the rest."

"This is a big school," Xander replied. "We probably never saw her."

"Hmm," Willow said, checking her files, "Me and Xander each had four classes with her. I haven't got much else on her. No one actually reported her missing. The school computer flagged her file after she had been gone a month and that was the first anyone noticed. Is she the only one you don't recognise?"

"When I should. Yes. All the more recent disappearances are older people, college students who I wouldn't expect to recognise, but she is the only student here on the list I don't remember," Cordelia said, too firmly.

She was doing it again. Her words sounded natural enough but they didn't quite ring true. The tone was slightly wrong, as if she had some emotional involvement he didn't know about. What was going on?

"Didn't her parents notice?" Buffy asked casually.

Willow shook her head. "Odd. Giles, does that sound hellmouthy?"

Giles glanced sideways at Cordelia. "Unusual, but not grossly so. Without more evidence there's nothing we can do."

Cordelia frowned then shrugged and said, "So, what now?"

"Research," Giles replied, and smiled.

Xander grimaced. That certainly wasn't his idea of fun. There had to be something more active for him to do, something more exciting.

"What's Buffy doing?" he asked. "Can't I help her?"

"Doing research is helping her. Buffy will be preparing for a fight, which isn't something you can help with directly," Giles said.

"Don't worry, Xander," Cordelia said, sounding amused, "I'm sure you'll get all the excitement you can handle later, and more." Then she turned to look at Giles. "I'll help. I so do not want more demon wolves to attack me."

Xander shrugged. Clearly he would have to tolerate a few dull hours before they got to the world-saving bit. If Cordelia could manage that he definitely could. Besides, it would give him plenty of time to admire Buffy's figure. "Bring on the books."

* * *

Xander climbed through Willow's window. She was sitting on her bed, a cup of coffee in her hand, quivering with excitement. He quickly glanced around the room, inwardly groaning when he spotted the other three coffee cups and the seven empty coke cans, every single one of them empty.

"At last. Did you tell anyone you were coming?" Willow asked him.

"No," Xander said, shaking his head. "What's the big secret?"

Willow smiled and handed him a computer printout. "I found these in Cordelia's user area. She'd deleted the files, but that doesn't destroy them. I just ran all her area through this data recovery utility I wrote and found those. Read them. Tell me what you think."

Xander looked at the printout. There were just two short paragraphs, both written that week.

The first paragraph began, "Angelus, ex-scourge of Europe, we know of thy curse and the loophole therein."

Xander looked up and asked, "Cordelia wrote this? She doesn't talk like that even now."

"And she's not smart enough to think of faking an old fashioned writing style," Willow said. "I think someone told her what to write. Have you got to the end yet?"

Xander shook his head, then continued reading. "One moment of happiness will cancel the curse. We therefore most humbly advise that ye not associate overmuch with the fair sex, lest ye know pleasure. This slayer is to be aided in her task by three mortal children, Cordelia the beautiful brunette, Xander the brave clown, and Willow the quite bright.

"Cordelia the beautiful?" Xander laughed. "That sounds like her, but she wouldn't say it that way."

Willow shrugged. "She couldn't resist adding a little self-flattery."

The note was signed 'The Children of Athena.' It was certainly a weird note, but what did it mean?

"Have you shown Giles this?" Xander asked. It was serious stuff, definitely watcher business.

Willow shook her head. "I don't know if we should. It's complicated but I'll explain. Just finish reading first."

The second paragraph had been written that morning.

"Angelus, We were pleased by thy actions during the harvest but regret that ye spoke to Buffy. Once more we advise ye against such behaviour, lest thy curse be broken. We also ask that ye inform Xander that a witch clad in her daughter's skin walks the town, killing all who threaten her vain ambition, and that there is an invisible girl living in Buffy's school. If the Master's minions should catch her, events might take a dangerous course."

That paragraph ended with the same signature.

"OK," Xander said, "why shouldn't we tell Giles? Cordelia knows stuff. This is important."

"Too important to go jumping to conclusions," Willow quickly said. "Any hacker could have planted those documents in Cordelia's files. I can't prove I didn't fake them; at least not to Giles or Buffy. They don't know enough about computers to understand the evidence. Cordelia could just deny everything and accuse us of stirring up trouble. She might have a good reason for keeping her secret a secret. Telling Giles might be dangerous. I don't want a big ugly confrontation, not without solid evidence."

Willow had always preferred to be quiet and avoid public scenes. She was too shy to defend herself in arguments, and she was too willing to see the other person's point of view. That was why she was still looking for an innocent explanation for Cordelia's weirdness. Still, Xander suspected that wasn't her only motive. Willow was too excited. She seemed to be anticipating something pleasant.

"We have to tell Giles," Xander insisted. "This is watcher business. If he finds out we knew and didn't tell him, well …"

Xander wasn't sure what Giles would do, but he might try and stop Buffy seeing them both.

"How do we know we can trust Giles?" Willow objected. "How do we know he is the real Giles? He told Buffy he was her new watcher but he never gave her any evidence."

"He knows about slayers and he's got the books," Xander replied.

"That's not proof," Willow insisted. "There may be other secret societies out there who know about this stuff, like these Children of Athena, if that's their real name. We know about this stuff. In ten years we could find some new slayer and convince her we were her watchers. Before we tell Giles anything we have to be sure we can trust him, and we have to have irrefutable evidence of what's going on."

"We have to trust people. If we start lying to each other the vampires will win," Xander said firmly, trying to calm Willow down. She had to be overreacting; Giles was too stuffy to have hidden secrets.

"Cordelia has already started the lying," Willow snapped. "Buffy would have lied to us too, if we hadn't discovered her secret first. We have to be careful who we trust. They really are out to get us, the forces of darkness that is. We can't suspect everyone but when people act suspiciously we have to suspect them, and both Cordelia and Giles are suspicious. We can't expect things to be simple either. They may want us to tell Giles about this just to spread suspicion and get us suspected of deliberately sowing suspicion so we should keep this secret secret even if keeping this secret sows suspicion of ourselves. When we know who all the players really are, and the rules of the game, then we can win."

It was nice of Willow to keep saying we, but Xander knew he wouldn't be able to do more than tag along in Willow's wake. If Cordelia was involved in the kind of intricate conspiracy Willow was suggesting, he would have no chance of unravelling that web of deceit himself. The best he could expect do was nod in all the right places and hope that Willow was right.

Giles would be able to do more. He was at least as clever as Willow, and older too. Buffy trusted him, and Xander trusted Buffy's judgement. They really should tell him everything, rather than making things even more complicated by piling their own secret plans on top of Cordelia's plots. Instead Willow wanted to keep the secret to herself. Fear of confrontation was obviously part of the motive, but there had to be more.

"It's going to be difficult," Willow continued, "outwitting Giles, uncovering secret societies and all that, but it will be interesting; very interesting. We'll have to assume the documents I found are genuine, while still remembering that they could be fakes. Giles might secretly be a master hacker pretending ignorance. Cordelia's probably working for a secret society, though I'm not sure why. Not yet, anyway."

As Willow began to explain how complex things were, Xander smiled. Now he knew Willow's other motive. It was the thrill of the intellectual chase. She had already been excited just by discovering the occult was real, but the vistas opened up by her new discovery were so vast that, on top of her earlier excitement, they had left her in ecstasy. He might not be able to understand how she could be so pleased by problems, but he had known her long enough to know how much she loved solving them. She had been like this when she had discovered hacking; in a moral panic at breaking the law, but unable to resist the challenge.

Willow kept interrupting herself as the explanation continued. The ideas must be bubbling through her brain faster than she could speak them. For once, she looked fully awake, alert and in the world. Most of the time, Xander knew, Willow just idled in neutral. School couldn't challenge her brain and he certainly couldn't. She spent much of her time immersed in her own thoughts, but even then, the one percent of Willow's mind that was paying attention to the outside world was still smarter than anyone else Xander had ever met.

Now though, Willow was concentrating the full wattage of her awesome intellect on one problem, trying to crack it. Confident of her ground, she had forgotten her shyness, and let the full brilliance of her mind blaze forth, brighter than the noonday sun. Xander only had to listen to her to know that, compared with Willow, he was but a feeble candle flame.

Still, Willow wasn't perfect. Sometimes she would follow a train of logic up a blind alley and crash spectacularly into a brick wall. Xander's intuition told him this might be one of those times. Willow was building a big tower of perfectly logical speculation on very flimsy foundations. Xander had a horrible feeling she was chasing mist and shadows; fighting fog.

By himself Xander would never be able to convince her keeping the secret was a bad idea; not when she was enjoying herself like this and spilling the secret would mean the kind of confrontation Willow had always dreaded. If only Jesse could have been here the two of them together would have been able to persuade Willow but, now that Cordelia had let his friend die, that was no longer an option.

What should he do?

Xander looked longingly at the window. He should be climbing out of it right now; Giles needed to know the whole truth, but Willow would realise where he was going. Betraying her trust would be bad enough without rubbing her nose in it.

In fact, whenever he told Giles the truth Willow would find out, and blame him for spoiling her fun, but he had to tell Giles sometime or Buffy would be angry at him keeping secrets from him. That would be worse than Willow, though he might be able to charm his way into Buffy's heart before she found out, which should stop her getting angry at him.

Xander needed more time to think, but that meant waiting, and keeping the secret while he thought. Choosing to do nothing would be a choice to follow Willow. Xander wished Willow had never burdened him with this secret, which might just be a solution to his problem.

"Will you not tell anyone I knew about this?" Xander asked.

Willow nodded, accepting his implicit agreement with her scheme, then asked, "So, did you notice the odd thing Cordelia implied about Angel's curse?"

"Angel wasn't mentioned," Xander said.

Willow smiled. "Angel, Angelus. Sound the same, don't they? That's how he knew who we were on Tuesday. The strange thing is Cordelia seems to be assuming he doesn't want his curse removed, but curses are supposed to be things you'd want to get rid off."

So Angel had a secret identity too? Was Xander the only person without a secret? Things just got more complicated the more he learned. This wasn't good. This was definitely bad. The sooner everyone's secrets were revealed the better. Spy stuff might sound fun, but it meant too much hard thinking, and Xander had always left that to Willow.

Perhaps he could drop Giles some hints so that he found out about all the secrets for himself before things got out of hand. That would mean going behind Willow's back, but since they both knew he could never outwit her she wouldn't be expecting him to try. Giles would probably want to claim all the credit for uncovering everyone's secrets so he wouldn't give Xander's help away, as long as it wasn't too blatant.

Willow might still suspect his involvement, but if he kept things plausibly deniable she would probably overlook it since everyone else would be angry with her anyway.

Xander leaned back and let Willow's fevered speculations wash over him while he waited for the Bronze to open.

* * *

The next afternoon Xander was in the mall when Buffy came up behind him.

"Looking at the bracelets?" she said.

Xander nodded. He had been looking for something to give Buffy. She'd told them about the cheerleader tryouts the night before, at the Bronze, so he'd decided to buy her a good luck token. If she liked it he might be able to ask her out, especially if she made the team.

"Willow with you?" Xander asked. Perhaps he could ask her what girls liked.

"No," Buffy replied. "Cordy. She insisted on showing me the best shops. The bracelet for Willow?"

Why should Buffy think he'd want to get a bracelet for Willow? She wasn't that kind of girl. Xander turned round to face Buffy, and his breath caught in his throat.

"Um, no," Xander said. "For you, a good luck thing for tryouts. I was just thinking about an inscription."

Buffy smiled knowingly. "Good luck is traditional for good luck tokens."

Xander nodded. He had been nerving himself to ask for something more romantic, but he couldn't go against Buffy's suggestion.

"So where's Cordelia then?" Xander asked, looking warily around the mall.

"I left her trying on dresses," Buffy said. "Getting her a bracelet for tryouts too?"

Xander laughed. Clearly Buffy didn't know him very well, yet. He'd call a vampire his friend before he started buying gifts for Cordelia.

"No," Xander said patiently. "Cordelia doesn't deserve good luck," not when she had just stood and watched while his friend walked off with a vampire. "I just like to be prepared when she's on the prowl."

Buffy sighed. "She's not that bad. Willow's accepted her. Can't we all be friends together, in a nice normal way?"

Willow was just much better at swallowing her bile than Xander. She had to be; she hated public scenes and thought it was wrong to talk about people behind their backs.

"She made our lives a misery for years. I can't forget that overnight," Xander replied. Still, she had tried to save Jesse, and almost gotten herself killed by Darla. That wasn't enough to compensate for all her past crimes, but it was agood start.

"You give as good as you get. Then you both smile. I've seen you."

If Buffy said so it had to be true. He supposed he might get a certain kind of twisted pleasure from the verbal sparring; searching for the perfect way to cut Cordelia, then watching her wince as his words hit home, all the while dodging her own poisoned barbs. It was invigorating. Besides, she couldn't really hurt him; she never said anything he hadn't heard a thousand times before, elsewhere.

Xander scowled. "Willow doesn't enjoy it."

Buffy smiled at his reply, then persisted. "She's trying to be nice now."

"Well, she's certainly still trying," Xander joked. "Why aren't you still with her?"

Buffy looked lost for words, struggling for a polite reply.

"OK, she's a um, well, I thought I saw Harmony coming. Cordy doesn't want her to see us together," Buffy eventually managed.

"Really?" Xander asked, unconvinced.

Buffy ignored him. "But I know what these last weeks have been like for her. I used to be like her, only much nicer."

Xander frowned. He hadn't thought about it, but it made sense that someone as beautiful as Buffy would be at the top of the social pile.

"Then I was chosen," Buffy continued. Her voice went quiet. "It was awful. I had this whole new secret life and I couldn't talk about it. Everything I had ever cared about seemed almost trivial. My friends all thought I'd gone weird. I wanted to keep a normal life, I still do, but instead I lost my friends, got expelled and had to leave LA. Now Cordy's going through the same thing. She might lose all her friends, everything she cares about; not like you. You'll never lose Willow. Cordelia didn't have to do anything when she found out, nobody chose her, but she decided to hunt vampires by herself. She had to cope with everything all alone for three weeks, could you?"

Xander nodded, but he wasn't sure. He would always have been able to confide in Willow. He couldn't begin to imagine how terribly lonely it would have been for Cordelia if she had found out the way she described. It hadn't happened that way though. Willow suspected Cordelia had spent the previous weekend being brainwashed by some secret society, possibly of Greek nuns. Still, being brainwashed couldn't be any less disturbing than Cordelia's version of events. In fact, Xander realised, whatever had happened to change Cordelia couldn't have been pleasant. It had turned her life upside down in a weekend, forcing her to do things she would have previously hated. Xander would have felt sorry for her if she hadn't deserved it.

Buffy paused briefly while Xander thought, then added, "She could go running back to her friends but she hasn't. She wants to help and she understands me. I don't want you to drive her away. It's not going to be easy for her. She doesn't have anyone she can talk to, except us. She needs our support, our friendship. and I can't do it alone. You can't expect her to change overnight but there's a good person under that attitude, I think. Just give her a chance."

Xander nodded grudgingly. If he let Cordelia get comfortable with his company she'd be more likely to slip and let her secret out, which would be good. "OK, but I won't let her walk over you and Willow."

Buffy smiled. "I can handle her myself."

"Good," Xander smiled back. "She's heading this way, without Harmony."

Buffy's smile tightened as she half turned to face Cordelia.

"Buying jewellery?" Cordelia asked Buffy. "There are better shops."

"No. Xander is," Buffy replied. "He's going to buy me a good luck token, for the tryouts."

"The tryouts?" Cordelia sounded faintly disbelieving.

As the two girls began talking Xander slipped into the shop.

* * *

That night, at the Bronze, Xander showed Willow the bracelet and asked, "Will she like it?"

"It's not just for luck, is it?" Willow looked away, a melancholy expression on her face, then she blinked. "Buffy's here now. We'll have to talk about Cordelia later."

Xander looked behind him and saw Buffy walking across the dance floor, as beautiful as ever. She stopped in the middle of the floor and looked around, then went and whispered in Cordelia's ear. Cordelia looked surprised, but nodded agreement.

"You spoke to Cordelia, in public," Xander said as Buffy approached his table. "Is that allowed?"

Buffy just smiled wearily. "When Harmony's not watching."

Buffy paused while she sat down then started speaking again, her tone serious. "I've got a message from Giles. He wants to meet all of us tomorrow, in the library, at half-two. He'll leave the fire exit unlocked. The watcher's council will be phoning him, and he says they want to vet you two and Cordelia."

"Didn't we go through that with Giles on Tuesday?" Xander interrupted.

"Until I told him it didn't matter what he said, I would pick my own friends," Buffy agreed, "but Giles said the council aren't as flexible as he is. He said the council must be most concerned if they want to talk to you at all."

Buffy smiled faintly. "I think that means the council is in a blind panic. They've been reading all those omens that turned up on Monday, like my dream."

Buffy briefly twitched as she mentioned her dream. Even after five days it still disturbed her.

"If the watchers are panicked shouldn't we be?" Willow asked nervously.

"Not yet," Buffy said with forced cheerfulness. "Everything will be fine unless you two start kissing."

Xander grimaced. "That is not going to happen," he stated firmly.

"Buffy," Angel said, startling Xander. He hadn't seen him approaching.

"What is it this time, cryptic guy?" Xander asked. He could guess though. Angel was delivering Cordelia's second note. Xander had been expecting it the previous night but perhaps she hadn't got it to him in time. Xander glanced across at where Cordelia was sitting. She was openly watching the gang, a smile on her face.

"Two things," Angel began, "There is a witch in town, wearing her daughter's skin. She cast her blood upon the sea and the demon wolves came to her, running across the waves. Be careful."

Cordelia's note hadn't said anything about blood. Angel must have other contacts too.

"How do you know all this?" Buffy interrupted, staring hungrily at Angel.

"The children talk to me," Angel said with a slight smile. "There is an invisible girl living in your school. You don't want to fight an invisible vampire."

Buffy glanced at Xander. "Another busy week on the hellmouth. So Angel. Angel?"

Xander looked where Angel had been standing but he had gone, vanishing swiftly and silently away.

Willow smiled. "That was interesting."

Buffy looked annoyed. "We'll tell Giles about it tomorrow. Right now, I just want a normal night out."

* * *

Xander frowned as he followed Willow and Buffy into the library the next day. He had better things to do on a Sunday afternoon. Admittedly, he couldn't think of any but it wasn't right, being in school at a weekend.

"Now they're all here, can you tell us why this is necessary?" Cordelia said, glaring at Giles.

Everyone else was already there, sitting round the main table. Xander hurriedly took a seat and looked at Buffy. She was wearing yet another flattering outfit. Xander didn't know why she bothered. Buffy would still look good whatever she wore; anything would suit her, and nothing best.

"We sorted this out on Tuesday," Cordelia continued. "Buffy picks her own friends, and you can't stop them getting involved."

Xander nodded. He didn't like agreeing with Cordelia, but she was right about that.

Giles nodded. "I understand, but the council takes a different view. I can not go against their wishes."

"They aren't here," Buffy objected.

"Yet," Giles replied. "Normally, the watcher is allowed to do their job as they see fit, guided by the ancient traditions of the council. Most watchers go years without needing to talk to the council, but this is different. Buffy's dream, and the flurry of other omens, clearly presage potential apocalypse."

"This is the hellmouth," Cordelia interrupted dismissively. "There's always big evil brewing, you said. The council didn't make any fuss about the harvest, so why now?"

A good point, but how could Cordelia be so blasé about the end of the world?

"This is a bigger evil," Giles replied.

Buffy nodded. "You didn't hear that laughter."

"But bigger than the master?" Willow asked. "He wants to destroy the world. What could be worse than that?"

"Not much," Giles admitted. "But the omens are clear and the council convinced. Something terrible is coming our way, something that makes the master look almost harmless. That much is plain."

But Buffy's dream had said nothing would happen unless he kissed Willow. Xander knew he would never do that. She was too much like a sister for him to think of her that way. So why were they making all this fuss?

Giles looked thoughtful. "Also, the council did not learn of the harvest until it was over. If it hadn't been for the omens they wouldn't have learnt about the harvest for months yet, but the omens were so bad the council actually broke its traditions and phoned me. Then I had to tell them about Buffy's dream, and about you three. Traditionally, we only send reports to the council once a year. Until recently, it took months for the reports to reach the council, much too late for them to do anything."

"What do the council do then, just write books?" Xander asked. It sounded like that was all they were good for.

Giles nodded. "Not just. Our books embody centuries of experience. Without them every slayer would have to start from scratch."

"Anyway," he continued, "it would not normally be practical for the council to try and control affairs from five thousand miles away, but this time it's different. This time we have been given a few months warning of impending disaster, enough time for the council to take action. This time the omens are so terrible, some on the council feel compelled to break with our ancient traditions and take direct action."

"You need to talk to them. Why do we?" Cordelia asked.

"All three of you are deeply involved in the omens. That's unprecedented. Our traditions embody the accumulated wisdom of millennia, but nowhere in it are there guidelines for dealing with those in your situation," Giles explained.

"You're in the new world now," Xander said smiling. "Forget your old ways. We do things differently here, and we never do them the traditional way."

If the watchers never did anything new, the vampires must know all their tricks. How could the watchers hope to win? Only ever doing things the traditional way was just asking for trouble.

Giles smiled. "Apart from Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and Valentine's Day, and Halloween. Some traditions are good." Giles looked wistfully into the distance. "I always thought not having the council breathing down the watcher's neck was a brilliant tradition."

Xander sat back, stung. He couldn't argue with that, but he still didn't like the idea of blindly following tradition.

"And some traditions are bad," Cordelia retorted. "If your council has no idea how to cope with something new, they're useless."

"Oh, they have ideas, all right," Giles said, "but I don't think you'll like them. They are liable to be counterproductive."

Xander frowned. Why couldn't Giles use plain English?

"You mean they'll make things worse?" Cordelia interpreted. She seemed to be used to the way Giles spoke. That secret society must have given her a lot of practice.

"Some of the younger watchers have volunteered to come here and advise you. They feel that if you have someone at your shoulder, twenty-four hours a day, telling you the best course of action, then nothing can go wrong."

Willow started stammering incoherently. Cordelia seemed speechless with fury.

"No way!" Xander managed to exclaim. "That's a nightmare, a total nightmare."

Buffy smiled. "Sounds like my life."

"I'm afraid this would be more intensive, Buffy," Giles said, "and you would find yourself with extra watchers too. With the fate of the world at stake, and no traditions to fall back on, many watchers are reluctant to accept a plan they think is second best. There would be several watchers in town, each with a different plan, each trying to make all of you do things their way."

"That did, um, won't happen," Cordelia said firmly. "One watcher is enough for this gang. Is that what you want us to tell the council?"

"Not quite," Giles replied. "The council is guided by the board of directors. They have enough authority to prevent an influx of watchers, but only if they can decide on a plan of their own. If the board dithers, my colleagues will ignore them."

"So we'll be speaking to the board?" Xander asked, trying to keep up with the conversation.

"Well, not directly. That would be a grave breach of protocol. You will be speaking to Mr Travers, while the board listens in."

"What do we have to say?" Cordelia asked.

Giles nudged his glasses. "The board needs to be convinced you are sound, as competent as watchers, just the kind of people they would have picked. The board does prefer the traditional approach but you will need to soothe their concerns about civilian involvement. Convince them you are reliable, and they will trust us to handle the prophecy the traditional way. Fail, and they will take more drastic measure or, worse, do nothing."

So, if Xander couldn't sound like Giles at sixteen, he would spend the next few months being stalked by the men in tweed. It was going to be a difficult conversation.

"You need to understand how the board thinks. One wrong word and …" Giles shook his head.

"So, spill," Buffy encouraged him.

"Most of the board of directors are alchemists," Giles began.

"They can make gold?" Xander interrupted. That didn't seem relevant.

Giles smiled. "Making gold is a trivial by-product of the great work. The philosopher's stone purifies everything it touches. It turns drab metal into gold, common pebbles into priceless gems, and it turns human flesh into the stuff of dreams; eternally young, impossibly beautiful, and purged of all earthly desires."

Cordelia sniffed. "That would never sell. What's the point of being rich, young and beautiful if you can't have fun?"

"That's not the point," Giles replied. "None of the directors have actually made the philosopher's stone but they have achieved limited success. None of them look much over sixty but all of them are into their second century. The board is a group of very old men, and women, firmly set in their ways. They do not react well to change, or crises. The greater the shock the more tightly they cling to the old traditions. You three are the greatest shock they have ever faced."

Xander groaned. He had thought exams were high pressure, but this phone call was in a whole new category. He would have to put on the performance of his life, in front of the worst audience imaginable. Willow didn't look happy at the idea either.

"Do I have to talk to them too?" Buffy asked.

"No, but afterwards they'll be telling us what they've learned about the omens. You will want to hear that."

Giles looked at the teenagers and sighed. "The phone call is due in five minutes. Just try your best. It's too late to back out now."

* * *

"How many languages can you read?" Mr Travers asked.

"Only English," Xander replied.

"American education is barely worth the name," Mr Travers mumbled contemptuously. "Mr Harris, are you willing to learn?"

"Yes, for Buffy's sake." Xander didn't see the point, not when they had Giles for all that academic stuff, but he could tell what Mr Travers wanted to hear.

"Would you die for her?" Mr Travers asked.

That was a question he could answer honestly. "Yes," Xander replied, his voice ringing with conviction.

Xander heard paper rustling in the background, then Mr Travers spoke again, "Very well. We will speak to Mr Giles again now."

"I'll fetch him immediately," Xander said.

Xander stepped out of the office. Willow had been keeping herself busy on the computer while Buffy and Cordelia watched, but when they heard the door open they all looked at him, their faces expectant.

"Giles," Xander said, "they want you back."

Giles put down the book he had been reading and hurried into his office, closing the door behind him.

Xander sat down and groaned.

"Bad?" Cordelia asked, with surprising sympathy.

"Twenty minutes of sheer hell. You said it was bad but it was worse than that. Those questions!" Xander exclaimed disbelievingly.

"How many Norse gods can you name?" Cordelia quoted. "Why would we want to know that?"

"They were just hoping we were the kind of people they trust, like Giles was at our age," Willow said quietly.

Cordelia looked amused. "They don't want us to run off to LA and have demon-powered orgies."

"We can do that?" Xander said startled. So far all the magic he had seen had been bad, but that sounded better.

"Xander!" Willow nudged him in the ribs.

"I don't want to. Demons are bad. It's a bad idea, bad." Xander smiled nervously, hoping the girls believed him. They didn't seem entirely convinced.

The office door opened and Giles walked out, looking worried.

"Well?" Buffy asked.

"You passed muster, just," Giles said. "The board has decided one watcher will be sufficient for the four of you. They'll tell the council that you are trustworthy people and strongly suggest that they should consider what went wrong last time the council tried direct action, back in 1625."

"What happened?" Willow asked, looking curious.

"A black magic cult was planning to create a hellmouth under London through mass human sacrifice," Giles said. "We ended up fighting a small magical war with them; arcane duels in the streets, in full public view. Over forty thousand civilians died in the cross fire. If they'd stuck to tradition, and used the slayer, we think the death toll could have been kept below one hundred."

"Forty thousand!" Xander exclaimed. The council's track record really was disastrous. It was obvious why they preferred not to get directly involved. "How could they keep that out of the history books?"

Giles shrugged. "That was easy. They just blamed the deaths on an epidemic of bubonic plague. They've covered up much worse events than that."

"The board were quite impressed by what you said you did before Buffy arrived," Giles said, then turned, and looked directly at Xander, "but they feel your knowledge is inadequate. Fortunately, the omens suggest we'll have until midsummer to solve that problem. I've been instructed to teach you all in the basics of occult lore, and given permission to teach you anything else it's safe for you to know."

Giles paused. "That was the good news. The bad news is coming by fax. They're sending us their interpretation of the omens."

"Couldn't they just tell us on the phone?" Buffy asked.

"It would take too long. The report has over one hundred pages," Giles said, shaking his head. Then he looked around. "Um, where is the school fax machine?"

"I'll show you," Willow said, standing up, then paused. "It's an old machine though. It'll take nearly an hour to receive that many pages."

Buffy smiled. "We'll wait here."

* * *

Five minutes later Xander was tired of waiting. Watching Buffy was enjoyable, but he needed to do something. "This isn't right; spending sunny afternoons shut in a library, being interrogated by a bunch of snobby old Englishmen. Why can't we just kill monsters and party?"

Cordelia smiled. "We can't kill monsters; we aren't slayers. This is dull, but at least it's safe."

Buffy nodded. "I'm not having you fighting. I don't want to put you guys in danger."

"I laugh in the face of danger, then I hide till it goes away," Xander joked, "but I'm not a book person. There's got to be something useful I can do."

Cordelia looked thoughtful, then smiled and asked. "So, what did Angel tell you guys last night?"

That seemed like a complete non sequitur. Cordelia was clearly up to something, but what? He would just to play along and encourage her to give herself away.

"Nothing much," Xander replied, trying to sound natural. "He said there was a witch in town, no surprise there."

"She used her blood to summon those fog-dogs," Buffy added.

"She did?" Cordelia sounded surprised. "That all?" she added impatiently. She must have come up with some plan involving that invisible girl.

"There's an invisible girl in school," Xander said, deliberately feeding Cordelia the cue she obviously wanted.

"Then we have to catch her," Cordelia said. "We can't have her wandering around, spying on us, and what if a vampire catches her first?"

Xander smiled. Cordelia did have a plan, a plan for action. That was his kind of plan, much better than the plotting that worried Willow.

"How?" Buffy asked. "How can I find somebody I can't even see? That's what Giles is for."

"We don't even know where to start," Xander added, trying to encourage Cordelia. If he played dumb enough she might end up dropping hints so blatant that Buffy would get suspicious.

Cordelia looked genuinely thoughtful. "Well, what do we know?"

"There's an invisible girl living in the school. That tells us zilch." Buffy sounded pessimistic.

"Um, why would a girl want to live in a school?" Cordelia said.

Xander nodded. "There are so many hotels that cater to the needs of the optically disadvantaged."

Cordelia just smiled at his sarcasm. "Why not live at home, or in the mall, or the Bronze?"

"Because she went here?" Buffy said hesitantly.

Cordelia nodded. "But why not at her home?"

"Her parents don't know. They must think she's missing," Xander suggested, then paused. He'd just been suckered into telling Cordelia what she must already know. Cordelia's rhetorical questions were carefully designed to elicit the right answers. That was sneaky. Cordelia wasn't about to slip up.

"Then she'll be on that missing list Willow printed." Buffy said, looking thoughtful.

Xander nodded. The answer was obvious now. Marcie must be the invisible girl. Cordelia must have been planning this conversation when she had suggested Willow should set up that database. That was why Cordelia had been making so much fuss about her on Friday.

"Marcie Ross," Xander said, deciding to claim the credit for finding the name. He could always trick Cordelia into giving herself away later. "She was the last one our age on that list, and she vanished in a hellmouthy way."

Buffy smiled. "You guys are good. We have a name. Um, now what?"

"We look her up," Cordelia suggested. "Find out what she liked, where she might be hiding."

Cordelia walked over to the shelves and casually picked up the latest yearbook. "She should be in here."

Buffy opened the book and flicked through the pages. "Recognise her?"

Xander shook his head. "No. How could we just forget her?"

"The hellmouth," Cordelia said. "It explains everything."

"Her only activity was band," Buffy read aloud.

"Let's look around the band room," Cordelia suggested, sounding pleased with herself. "We might find some clues."

Xander smiled. With Cordelia present, they'd certainly find clues, even if she was planting half of them herself.

* * *

Xander followed Buffy into the band room, with Cordelia one step behind him.

"Looks normal," he commented.

"She can't be living here," Buffy said. "It's too public."

"Perhaps nearby, where she can listen to them practising," Cordelia suggested.

Xander watched Cordelia carefully. He was sure she knew where Marcie was hiding. If he took his cues from Cordelia's body language he should be able to locate the hiding place first and impress Buffy.

Cordelia looked hesitant, probably deciding how to word her next hint. She glanced nervously up at the ceiling then looked at Buffy. Xander looked up, trying to see what had worried Cordelia, and spotted a trapdoor in the corner, above a cabinet.

Xander pointed and said, "Up there?" trying to sound tentative. "There's nowhere else she could hide near here."

Buffy dragged a chair over to the cabinet and climbed up to look. "Footprints. They haven't dusted in months."

Buffy jumped onto the cabinet and opened the trapdoor.

"Wait for us," Xander said as he climbed onto the chair. He didn't want to be left anywhere alone with Cordelia.

"You don't have to come," Buffy replied. "You should stay away from danger."

"Marcie's only an invisible girl," Xander began, then saw Buffy's face looking down at him. "Not a slayer."

"So you think she's harmless, like little young me," Cordelia said sharply behind Xander.

Xander spluttered. He would never describe Cordelia as harmless. She had left too many bruises on Willow's soul for that.

Buffy smiled. "There could be anything up here. You should stay down there with Cordy."

Cordelia's face became unreadable.

"No," Xander said firmly. "I'm coming with you."

Buffy sighed. "Cordy, what about you?"

Cordelia looked startled. "Um, stay down here alone or crawl around in the dust. Does Giles pay expenses?"

Buffy smiled. "You could go and find Giles and Willow, tell them what we've found."

"Yes," Xander added. "Marcie won't be needing fashion tips."

Conflicting emotions washed across Cordelia's face. "I won't be sidelined," she mumbled to herself, then, her voice ringing with confidence, added, "I'm coming up."

Xander hid a smile. Some people might be fooled by Cordelia's act, but he'd known her long enough to spot the tremor in her left eyebrow.

Buffy pulled Xander up through the trapdoor then leant back down for Cordelia. Xander looked around. The crawl space was dark and grimy; he couldn't see anything unusual.

"Eeew," Cordelia groaned. "This is horrible."

"Tread carefully, I don't want you falling through the ceiling," Buffy warned them, then pointed towards a skylight. "Footprints, heading that way."

Xander watched as Buffy hurried off, admiring the view, then shook himself and swiftly followed her.

A dozen yards in front of him, Buffy bent down and picked up a flute.

"Found something?" Xander asked.

Buffy slowly nodded, her shoulders drooping. "This must be her nest."

As Xander approached, he looked at the pathetic pile of oddments on the floor; an old yearbook, a tattered blanket, some sheet music; worthless junk, but it was all Marcie had.

"Not much of a life," Xander sighed. "I thought invisibility would be fun but this just looks lonely."

"Where's Cordy?" Buffy asked. "Did she change her mind?"

Xander looked back towards the trapdoor. "No, she's just being very careful." Cordelia was moving with great delicacy, as though she expected the floor to collapse at any moment.

"What now?" Xander asked. He had been hoping for some action, but Marcie was obviously harmless.

"Marcie, are you here?" Buffy said quietly. "We can help."

"Nobody can help me. You're all the same," a strange voice said.

Xander shuddered. That must be Marcie but he couldn't see her. There really was an invisible girl right in front of him.

"This Marcie's junk?" Cordelia asked, arriving behind Xander. She gently nudged the pile with her foot and sniffed. "Worthless trash."

"Cordelia!" Marcie screamed. "You did this. You! In my place. Get out. Now. Go!"

Xander heard Marcie run past him, screaming in fury.

Cordelia staggered back a step, then fell backwards, straight through the floor.

Xander knelt and peered through the hole. Cordelia had fallen into the science lab. Luckily, the demonstration mirror had broken her fall, but she seemed to be stunned and bleeding badly.

"It's all your fault. Everything's your fault." It sounded like Marcie had fallen through the hole too.

Buffy jumped through the hole, landing on her feet, just inches from Cordelia.

"Marcie. We can help. Cordy's sorry. Just come peacefully," Buffy said, trying to calm Marcie down.

Xander sat down, his feet dangling through the hole, and began to lower himself into the room.

"Help? How? I heard you. You kill monsters and freaks, like me." Marcie sounded calmer now.

"I never kill people, never." Buffy sounded offended.

Xander dropped to the floor and stumbled, falling to his knees.

Marcie's voice cracked. "No one can help me. It's been horrible, just horrible, and it's all her fault."

That didn't make much sense. Why would Cordelia arrange for them to discover Marcie if she was responsible? She must know Giles would find out.

Cordelia groaned. She looked terrible, obviously in pain. Whatever she had done she didn't deserve this. Xander knelt down besides her and gently wiped the blood from her cheek.

"Deja vu," Cordelia muttered, opening her eyes. What did she mean?

"Are you OK?" Xander asked quietly.

"I've been hurt worse," she said, her voice weak.

Xander looked up. Marcie was sobbing now. Xander still couldn't see her, but Buffy had her arms wrapped round some invisible shape.

A key rattled in the lock, then the classroom door burst open and Willow and Giles staggered in, both breathless.

Willow looked round the room wide-eyed. "What happened?"

Giles hurried over to Cordelia, his face pale. "Is she?" His voice trailed off.

"Shouldn't we phone 911?" Willow asked.

"I'll be fine," Cordelia quietly insisted.

"Was this slayer business?" Giles replied. When Buffy nodded he continued. "Then we can't involve the authorities yet. I've got some medical training for these situations. We'll take her to the library. I've got supplies there."

* * *

Buffy held an ice pack to Cordelia's head while Giles gingerly felt her for broken bones.

"Heavy bruising and lacerations, but no real damage. The headache should pass in a few hours," Giles finally announced. "Now, what happened and how did you find this invisible girl?"

"My name is Marcie." she interrupted, sounding indignant. "Untie me."

"We need to know where you are," Buffy said patiently. "We can't help otherwise."

Xander frowned. Marcie wanted their help; she wasn't about to run away. They should have trusted her, not tied her up, but Cordelia had insisted on taking precautions, and Giles had agreed with her.

Buffy looked at Giles. "We were talking about what Angel said last night."

Giles interrupted. "Angel?"

"Cryptic guy, remember," Xander said. "Told Buffy about the Harvest and helped with the vampires."

Buffy nodded. "He told us there was an invisible girl here. We tracked her down. She pushed Cordy through the ceiling."

Giles frowned. "I need a little more detail than that. What did Angel tell you, exactly?"

"He said there was an invisible girl in school," Willow replied.

"Is that all?"

Xander shook his head. "He said the witch had summoned those demon wolves with her own blood, but he didn't say anything else about Marcie."

Giles looked intrigued. "Hmm. Blood would make the spell more powerful, especially if she used her own. That and the power of the hellmouth might be just enough. But how did you manage to track Marcie down with such meagre information?"

"Cordy and Xander worked it out," Buffy replied. "They were brilliant."

Willow smiled meaningfully at Xander. He knew she wouldn't believe that. He'd have to tell her later how Cordelia had planted hints but for now it was enough to bask in Buffy's praise.

"It was all Xander's idea," Cordelia said. Flattering, but she probably wanted to ensure nobody asked her awkward questions. Then Cordelia turned her head to look at the chair Marcie was fastened to. "What did you mean, my fault? I don't remember ever seeing you."

Yes, Cordelia definitely didn't want people asking how they'd worked out who Marcie was. The process had been too tidy. Buffy didn't seem to suspect anything but Giles was smarter. If he heard too much detail he'd know something was fishy.

"You never saw me, even when I was visible," Marcie said bitterly. "Everyone ignored me, and I vanished. You made me into a freak."

"Of course!" Giles exclaimed. "Quantum physics."

Xander stared at Giles. What did he mean? Everyone else, even Willow, seemed equally baffled.

"It's a rudimentary concept that reality is shaped, or even created, by our perceptions," Giles explained.

"And the hellmouth encourages weirdness," Cordelia added.

"Yes," Giles said. "People perceived Marcie as invisible and you became so. It's not Cordelia's fault, Marcie."

"If she hadn't ignored me," Marcie persisted.

"I didn't know," Cordelia interrupted. "Xander must have ignored you too, but you didn't half kill him. I could have died."

"You came into my home, kicked my things, insulted everything I have," Marcie shouted. "What did you expect? Flowers?"

"I came to help you," Cordelia said emphatically. "And I wasn't trying to insult you. Your pile of junk looked so pitiful. It was completely worthless, but it was all you had. I was feeling sympathetic."

The amazing thing was, it sounded like Cordelia really believed everything she had just said. She might have been tactless but her heart had been in the right place. Marcie didn't seem impressed though. She just snorted disbelievingly.

Willow looked thoughtful. "Did you actually want Xander and me to notice you?"

"I wanted to be noticed," Marcie snapped. "Everyone ignores you. Nobody ignores Cordelia."

Cordelia's eyes opened wide in surprised realisation. "You wanted to be like me, but you failed."

"Like you!" Marcie spat. "You mean vain, arrogant and cruel? Nobody wants to be like you, nobody even likes you."

Marcie sighed, and in a quiet voice added, "I just didn't want to be lonely."

"And you thought being popular would help?" Cordelia smiled disbelievingly. "You think I'm never lonely? I can be surrounded by people and still feel alone. It's not like any of them really know me. Half of them don't even like me. People just want to be in a popular zone, like you did. Sometimes when I talk, everyone's so busy agreeing with me, they don't hear a word I say."

As Cordelia spoke her voice grew wistful, tinged with old pain. "It's lonely at the top. Real friends are much better, if you can find them. You would have been better off with Willow and Xander."

Cordelia smiled faintly. "Buffy knows what I mean. She was popular once."

Buffy nodded. "There was something missing, and it looked like you three."

Xander was puzzled. There was no doubting the sincerity of Cordelia's words. Buffy believed her and nobody was that good an actress. Cordelia clearly had hidden depths, but that left one key question unanswered. "If you're not enjoying it, why do you work so hard to be popular?"

"It beats being alone all by yourself," Cordelia's voice grew bitter as she looked at Xander. "I've never had any real friends. I doubt I ever will. You only tolerate me because I'm useful. That's why I had to go into the ceiling, and look what that got me. No, popularity is a poor second to real friendship, but it's the best I can get."

Xander knew that must be the headache talking. Nobody could think that way and, even if they could, Cordelia would never be so open about her feelings if she were thinking straight. If it had been anyone else he might have thought they were trying to make him feel guilty but Xander knew Cordelia was too proud to reveal any vulnerability, no matter what the motive. It would take a life-shattering trauma to weaken Cordelia's pride and Xander knew she hadn't been through any of those — apart, he supposed, from discovering vampires were real, and perhaps being brainwashed by some puritanical Greek cult. Still, neither of those adequately explained Cordelia's outburst.

It had to be the headache talking; no other explanation made sense.

Buffy began spluttering denials while looking accusingly at Xander. Willow just looked guilty, and took a half-step towards Cordelia.

Marcie laughed scornfully. "You think you've had it tough? You disgust me."

Cordelia nodded. "You've had it worse, months of complete isolation, without people even pretending to listen to you, but it wasn't my fault," she said, in a calm sympathetic voice pitched just right to make Marcie furious.

Marcie began to reply but Willow interrupted, casually remarking, "Couldn't we cure Marcie by reversing the process? If we act as if we can see her, then our perceptions will become real and Marcie be made visible once more."

"Ingenious," Giles commented, startled, then looked thoughtful.

Buffy looked confused. "How can we pretend to see something that isn't visible? We'd know we were faking it. We couldn't make Giles twenty just by acting like he was, could we?"

Willow shook her head. "No, not that way. We tell people who don't know we saw Marcie round the corner just a minute ago. We keep dropping her name into conversations until people believe Marcie exists. Once the school believes Marcie exists, she will become visible."

Marcie sounded hopeful. "I can be cured?"

Giles frowned. "It's ingenious, but it's too dangerous. The consensus image of Marcie your actions would create in the school wouldn't be the same as the real Marcie. The hellmouth would give that consensus human form, but it wouldn't have a human soul. At best it would be soulless, at worst …" Giles shuddered. "There are so many things that could use the body we would be creating, so many terrible things. It's a good idea, but it isn't safe."

Giles paused, adjusting his glasses. "Nor should we be so quick to assume my first explanation is right. If the Hellmouth truly rendered reality that labile other consequences should follow, which we do not see."

"Can you cure me or not?" Marcie demanded.

Cordelia shrugged. "Don't worry, Marcie. Giles will cure you. He knows magic, I bet."

Giles looked thoughtfully at Cordelia. "I do have limited knowledge of the magical arts, but no practical experience."

Cordelia smiled strangely at that, but Giles continued. "Still, I might be able to find a cure, but I will need to consult my books."

Buffy nodded. "See, Marcie. Everything will be all right. You just have to wait a few days."

"Wait where?" Marcie asked. "Tied up in here like some monster?"

"No. You're human," Giles said firmly. "Buffy can take you home with her."

"I can?" Buffy said, sounding slightly panicked. "How do I explain it to Mom?"

"None of our parents would notice an invisible presence eating all the food," Cordelia added sarcastically. "You take her, Giles."

Xander and Willow nodded. An invisible girl sharing his bedroom might be interesting but there were so many ways she could accidentally get him in trouble with his parents.

"You can stay in my flat, if you promise not to run away or touch anything," Giles reluctantly told Marcie. "Not everything I have there is safe."

Marcie took several seconds to respond but eventually she replied, "OK, but I better be cured soon."

"So, what now?" Buffy said. "Has that fax finished yet?"

Giles shook his head. "You should help Cordelia home. She needs a good night's rest. Willow and Xander can stay and keep Marcie company if there's no problem."

Xander smiled. "It'll be fun. She can tell us all the things she's spied on." Willow nodded agreement.

"But when will we know what's in the fax? I want to know why the watchers are panicking," Buffy persisted.

Giles smiled. "The council would never panic; it would be too undignified."

"Was that a joke?" Xander asked smiling. "You need to work on your delivery."

Still smiling, Giles looked at Xander. "I'll read the fax tonight, and summarise it tomorrow morning, at eight-thirty, if that's not too early."

What could Xander say? Buffy and Willow were both eager to hear about the prophecies that had panicked the watchers. He would have to agree, despite his reluctance to be in school so early in the morning. Slowly he nodded his compliance.

Willow looked bashfully at Giles. "You said you'd been told to teach us about the occult. When will that start?"

"When there isn't a crisis," Giles replied. "I have to decide what is safe and useful for you to know. I doubt you want or need to memorise the names and attributes of all one thousand children of the demon Fthagael."

Definitely not. That would be worse than school.

"But," Giles continued, "There are things I can tell you that might save your life. They might even help you four save the world."

"Fighting?" Xander asked. Being able to fight like Buffy would be fun. "You can teach all of us, not just Buffy."

"No," Giles said. "It is Buffy's duty to fight, not yours. Also, you are too young. If you learnt to fight effectively you would just become overconfident and get yourself killed. Watchers don't learn the martial arts till their mid-twenties at the earliest."

Giles smiled. "Still, I might teach you the crossbow. It's useful but keeps you at a safe distance."

Xander frowned. That was something, but he had hoped for more.

Buffy nodded. "Leave the fighting to me." She turned and looked at Cordelia. "Can you stand?"

Cordelia groaned in pain as she struggled to her feet. "Barely. I certainly won't be at the tryouts tomorrow."

"Tryouts?" Giles asked.

"For cheerleading," Buffy replied.

Giles looked disdainful. "Ridiculous pastime. It is fortunate Cordelia has got a good excuse to drop it. None of us will have the time for such frivolous hobbies, and the council would certainly not approve."

Buffy stiffened slightly but said nothing. She must be waiting for a better time to tell Giles.

Xander watched Cordelia limp out of the room, leaning heavily on Buffy. Giles followed them, heading back to the fax.

"OK, Marcie," Xander said brightly. "What's the funniest thing you saw?"


	5. Fighting Fog: Magical days

The next morning Giles looked up as the four teenagers stepped into the library.

"Well?" Buffy asked impatiently, as she sat down. "What's the bad news? What will I have to kill?"

"It is worse than I feared," Giles replied. "The four of you appeared in hundreds of visions last Monday. Most of them resembled Buffy's dream, but some of the visions had extra details. They were all accompanied by the direst of omens."

"How bad could they be?" Willow asked.

Giles leafed through the pile of pages. "Well, there is Drake's Drum. It sounds whenever England is in danger of imminent destruction. Mostly, it responds to major wars, but if the world is destroyed England will also perish. In 1936 it sounded just once, to warn us of Hitler; it sounded twice in 1937, the first time the master tried to open the hellmouth. Sometimes it has stayed silent for decades but now it is sounding steadily, one drum beat every two hours. There are over a hundred comparable incidents in these pages, and there may be many more the watchers do not know about."

"What extra details?" Cordelia asked, looking worried. "Did anyone see anything extra about me?"

"No," Giles replied. Cordelia looked strangely relieved. Xander had thought she'd want more omens, so she could tell herself how important she was.

"But the visions did make it clear that Xander and Willow must also make world-shaking decisions. These photocopies describe the omens specific to each of you," Giles said as he handed them out. "Most of the details are obscure, but it appears that Willow will have to choose between old dreams and new hope while Xander will be forced to choose between two women, each of whom would demand a different sacrifice."

Xander smiled, and looked at Buffy. That prophecy sounded enjoyable, and easy. He would just pick Buffy and all would be well. She was worth any price. Willow began looking through her pages.

"We haven't been able to decipher anything about Cordelia's choice," Giles added, frowning slightly, "but it is clear that if any of you make the wrong decision you will fall into evil and the world will be worse than damned."

Xander couldn't believe that. He knew he wasn't perfect and Cordelia being evil wouldn't surprise anyone but there was no way Willow would ever do anything immoral.

"Don't I get a choice?" Buffy asked, looking peeved.

"Ah, no," Giles replied. "Your role is what it was always destined to be. You are the slayer, scourge of evil. That hasn't changed."

Giles paused significantly. "Almost everything else has. Whatever happened last Monday rewrote destiny, reducing most of the prophecies of millennia to scrap paper. That's why our tarot cards turned to dust. The future has been changed."

"So what?" Cordelia said smiling. "What if this is a better future?"

"It won't be," Giles replied. "Buffy's dream, and the other new omens and prophecies, have shown us the broad shape of the new future; death and endless despair, evil on a scale that makes the Master look petty. The only hope of humanity is Buffy, and you three."

"Us?" Xander said, shocked. That was more responsibility than he wanted, though he had no doubt that he could manage. Willow and Cordelia looked equally shocked.

Giles nodded. "Before last Monday, only Buffy had a destiny. The rest of you weren't meant to get involved. You would all have lived normal lives, completely unaware of all this."

Cordelia's face twitched briefly, in a disbelieving smile. Why? Xander couldn't see how it fitted with Willow's theory. It might just mean the secret society's plan was more intricate than they thought, which was what Willow said everytime he asked questions, but Xander felt that explanation was too complicated.

"But the future changed," Giles continued, "and you three acquired a destiny."

Buffy smiled. "Welcome to the club."

"What changed things?" Willow asked. "Can't Buffy just kill whatever is responsible and put the future back the way it was meant to be, except with us still involved, because I couldn't just forget after I've seen vampires and demon wolves and invisible girls, not that I saw her. Where is Marcie anyway?"

"Shut in my office," Giles replied. "She doesn't need to hear this conversation."

Giles paused briefly. "We don't actually know what is responsible but the board recognises the style. There is something out there which patiently plots to unmake the world. Its schemes span centuries, with contingency plans stacked seven deep. In 1623 it brought the world to the edge of oblivion."

Xander frowned. There was something familiar about that date.

"But it didn't win," Willow interrupted. "'cause the world's still here. What happened that time?"

"It was a pyrrhic victory," Giles replied, "it took us years to heal the worst damage and, even today, the world has not fully recovered."

"Wasn't that when that hellmouth thing in London you said about yesterday happened?" Buffy asked. "Is that what's going to happen here?"

"No," Giles replied. "Opening a hellmouth under London was just one of the contingency plans for the failure of one of its contingency plans, not the main plan. Tricking the council into open magical warfare in the streets was only a contingency plan for the failure of the hellmouth opening plan."

Giles had lost Xander half way through that sentence, but Willow was smiling. She understood what Giles meant; she could explain it to Xander later, if it was important.

"If it's so big, why didn't you already know about it?" Cordelia asked sceptically.

Giles scowled. "I wasn't told until yesterday. The board didn't think I needed to know, and they wanted to ensure I couldn't be tortured into telling the wrong people. Apparently, the board has several such secrets, but they've never found it necessary to tell the actual watcher that the secrets even exist."

Giles sounded slightly bitter about that, understandably. How could the board know what Giles needed to know? They might be good guys, but they seemed completely useless at everything except writing books.

"So what happened last time?" Buffy asked. "What will we be fighting?"

"I don't know," Giles admitted, "but this battle will not be won by strength alone. These three will have to make the right choice." He seemed sure of that.

"But what happened? What is it?" Buffy persisted.

"It has no true name and no man has ever seen it, but the demons called it Omega, the Last, the great devourer and many other such titles. Some think it's connected with the First; it may even be the same entity," Giles replied.

"I don't care who its cousins are. What did it do that was so bad?" Buffy interrupted impatiently. She seemed as eager as Xander to get to the action. Cordelia was too composed to show any emotion but only Willow seemed to be enjoying Giles's lecture.

"It tricked the vampire, Thanatos, into joining the spears," Giles said. "But it won't be able to use the same tactic this time. The Master was a minor member of Thanatos's court, and the only one who escaped. We think he spent the next decade hiding in Russia. He certainly won't repeat Thanatos's mistake."

"Hiding? The big bad vampire ran away?" Xander said disbelievingly. "The Master wants to destroy the world too, right? Isn't this Omega guy on the Master's side?"

Giles smiled grimly. "Omega treated the vampires as mere pawns. The Master just wants to bring the demons back, destroy humanity, and rule the world; petty ambitions."

"Because the world is just a little chunk of rock," Cordelia interrupted sarcastically.

Giles nodded. "Omega operates on a larger scale. It came close to unmaking the cosmos; not just destroying it, but making it never have existed. Since the demons came from this reality, that would have unmade them too."

"So? Dead is dead, and I really don't care what happens to demons," Cordelia said calmly, but there was a faint tinge of worry in her voice. She seemed determined to dismiss what Giles was saying. Why? If her sources had told her this prophecy was false she would already have known about it but she had looked genuinely surprised when Giles had mentioned it.

"The Master can't harm your soul," Giles said. "Omega can destroy it."

Giles seemed to think that was impressive and, since he was an expert on the occult, it probably was, but Xander couldn't see why.

"So I just kill Omega and no more problem?" Buffy persisted.

Giles shook his head. "It's too late for that. Even if we knew what Omega was, and assuming it can be killed, the trap has already been triggered. Omega will have spent centuries creating this time bomb. Last Monday something started it ticking. It can only be defused if we make the right choices and, even then, we can be sure the price will be high."

Giles shrugged. "Anything could have started it, perhaps something as trivial as a drop of blood on an old family heirloom. It's too late to stop it now. All we can do is prepare to weather the coming storm."

"But last week you said if me and Willow don't kiss nothing will happen. We aren't going to kiss." Xander protested. He couldn't imagine why he'd want to kiss Willow anyway, but Buffy's dream had ensured he never would.

"Buffy's dream wasn't an if, it was a when," Giles said firmly. "You will certainly, um, k-kiss Willow, at least metaphorically. It might be referring to a conspiracy, or even a betrayal."

Xander winced when he heard that. He was already conspiring with Willow. Did that mean he had already placed the fate of the world in Cordelia's hands? Worried, Xander looked at Willow, but she just smiled dismissively. She must have thought of a better explanation.

"The details are unclear but this much is plain," Giles continued. "Buffy's dream showed the keystone of Omega's plot. If you weren't going to kiss Omega wouldn't have been able to change the future."

"What did it do last time? If we know that might help. You mentioned spears," Willow asked, changing the subject.

Giles smiled at Willow. "It arranged for Thanatos to obtain two magic spears, Gungnir and Laran's spear."

"We can get magic weapons?" Xander interrupted, imagining himself swinging a big fiery sword around.

"No." Giles replied flatly. "Even on the hellmouth, magical objects are extremely rare and not safe for human use. Those two spears belonged to gods. Laran was the Etruscan god of war and Gungnir belonged to the chief Norse God, Odin."

Xander decided not to ask any more questions. Giles kept answering them, at excessive length. Willow might enjoy that, but he didn't. Buffy was also looking bored, but Cordelia looked to be deep in thought.

"Both of those spears were objects of immense power," Giles said. "Thanatos thought their combined power would let him breach the dimensional barriers and bring the demons back He fastened them togethere, and rejoiced, but he had been tricked." Giles paused, checking his notes. "Both spears were foci of mystical power. Each of them amplified magic in its vicinity."

"Like the hellmouth?" Willow asked. Xander frowned at her. If she kept asking questions Giles would never finish speaking.

Giles nodded. "In a way. The hellmouth only amplifies malign probabilities; demons, black magic, curses, and so forth. The spears amplified everything martial, for good or ill, including each other. That meant-"

Willow gasped, interrupting Giles. "A positive feedback loop. Runaway growth? Or did it saturate?" Once again, Willow had deduced the answer before anyone else had understood the question.

At first Giles seemed slightly confused by Willow's wording but he quickly smiled. "Not the standard terminology, but yes it, um, ran away. At first everything was going the way Thanatos had planned. The dimensional barriers weakened, and thousands of demons slipped through. Many of the demons living today are here because Thanatos joined the spears. But it didn't stop there. As the power of the spears grew reality began to crumble, the world dissolving into chaos. Thanatos tried to stop it, but he couldn't separate the spears. We've only got second-hand reports of what happened next, but it seems that other things came to dance in the chaos; creatures of madness incarnate, vileness beyond all comprehension, and the demons fled that place, terrified. The chaos continued to expand, driven by the ever increasing power of the spears, trebling in size each week, until it seemed nothing could stop it."

"Something did," Willow said. She was leaning towards Giles, caught up in his story.

Giles nodded. "After several failed attempts we finally stopped it, but only by making the ultimate sacrifice. The twelve most senior watchers each gave up their lives to empower the slayer, giving her the strength to walk unharmed through the chaos and destroy the spears. She succeeded, but was herself destroyed in the process; not just killed, but unmade."

Willow started to ask another question but Giles glanced at Buffy, who was clearly bored, and sighed. "Willow, I think that's all you need to know for now. It would take hours to tell you the full story and classes will be starting soon."

Still looking thoughtful, Cordelia said, "Panic much, and all over a few dozen scary dreams. Could this Omega just be bluffing, to panic you? Buffy stops, um, can stop world threatening weirdness every month, right? That's her job. Omega might be just another easy fight for her; with a lot of help from us."

Cordelia sounded unsure of her own words but Xander thought they made sense. "There's a witch out there with a pack of giant wolves," he reminded Giles. "Let's worry about her now. Omega can wait his turn. When he shows up Buffy will kill him."

Giles sighed. "It won't be that easy, but at least you've been warned. Read the prophecies about yourselves and be alert."

Cordelia smiled, apparently relieved she wouldn't have to do anything.

"Got any more thrilling news? Anything I can actually do?" Buffy asked.

"No," Giles replied, reaching into his pocket, "but I do have one gift for all of you — keys, so you can come in here at any time. They should come in useful."

Willow immediately held her hand out, smiling with anticipated pleasure as Giles dropped a library key onto her palm. Xander shrugged and took his key. They weren't quite what he would have chosen, but he wouldn't object to special privileges for the slayer and her gang. After all, they were going to save the world.

* * *

That lunchtime Buffy stepped out of the library, looking very attractive in her cheerleader's uniform, but slightly annoyed.

"Giles didn't approve?" Willow said.

The three of them began walking down the corridor towards the gym.

"He totally lost his water," Buffy said. "We haven't seen anything dangerous since Thursday. I'd say he should get a girlfriend if he wasn't so old."

"But what about Omega?" Willow sounded unsure. She worried too much.

"When he shows, we'll deal," Buffy sounded dismissive. "We'll still have time to fight the forces of darkness. I just want to do something normal, something safe."

Xander nodded. "We're right behind you. Let's do things your way."

"I hope we have a choice," Willow said, sounding pessimistic. "Have you looked at those prophecies Giles gave us? They don't look good."

"They look like complete gibberish," Xander had glanced at them but he hadn't been impressed. "I hoped they'd say something I could bet on."

Willow smiled. "You don't know how to bet."

"I've seen prophecies before. They tell you exactly what's going to happen but you have to think like Giles to understand them. I never understood why they couldn't use plain English," Buffy said with feigned calm, then nervously added. "They don't say anything about me, do they?"

Xander smiled. The one prophecy he had looked at had mentioned Buffy, and it was good news.

"Yes," Xander replied. "These Buddhist monks saw my face in a vision, and it spoke to them. It said I was 'the defender of man.' "

Willow nodded. "That's what Alexander means."

"Oh," That was disappointing. Xander had been hoping it meant something special. "Anyway, it said I had a nice laugh, in fancy language, and that I would, um, 'rescue the slayer from beyond the portals of death, twice.', so that's good news. After that it got totally incoherent."

It had also gotten very gloomy, but Xander didn't want to risk depressing Buffy.

Buffy smiled. "That's the kind of prophecy I like, not all doom and gloom."

Willow didn't seem so impressed. "That sounds nice," she began tentatively, "but if you're going to bring Buffy back from the dead, won't she have to die first? And three times too, at least."

"Three?" Buffy looked puzzled, and slightly worried.

"Twice when Xander brings you back, once when you stay dead, and maybe a few other times too," Willow explained.

"Oh, great," Buffy said. "First I'm told I can't have a normal life. Now I find I won't even get a normal death. I don't want to spend years yo-yoing between earth and, um, wherever."

The three of them walked the rest of the way to the gym in silence. Why couldn't that prophecy have been more cheerful?

* * *

When they stepped into the gym Xander smiled.

"People scoff at things like school spirit, but look at these girls giving their all like this," he remarked.

All the school's most attractive girls in skimpy costumes could boost anyone's spirit, it had certainly boosted his, and they didn't object to Xander watching. If it hadn't been for the wonderful school spirit he would have had to pay to see a sight like this.

"Ooh! Stretchy." Amber doing the splits was especially inspirational but also distracting. "Where was I?"

Willow smiled. "You were pretending that seeing scantily-clad girls in revealing postures was a spiritual experience."

"Who said I was pretending?" Xander tried to remember what he had meant to do next, something to Buffy, or for her.

"You-" Willow began.

"Oh, hey," Xander looked at Buffy. "Here's a good luck thing for tryouts." Xander fished the bracelet out of his pocket and passed it to her.

Buffy examined the bracelet. "And it says 'good luck' too." She smiled and put it on.

The bracelet hadn't been cheap, but Buffy's smile made it worthwhile. If he thought it would make her smile at him like that all the time he would gladly have bought her a hundred bracelets.

"Amy. Hi," Willow said, spotting her old friend.

Amy shivered slightly, then braced herself and walked towards Willow.

"I didn't know you wanted to be a cheerleader," Willow told Amy, looking mildly surprised. "You've lost a lot of weight."

"OK, listen up," Joy said, starting the tryouts. "Let's begin with Amber Grove. If you're not auditioning, move off the floor."

Willow continued talking but Xander was only half-listening. Amber wasn't as graceful as Buffy, but she was still nice to look at.

"They have cheerleading coaches?" Buffy seemed shocked.

"Oh yeah," Amy replied. "It's safer too. Cordelia wouldn't have had her accident if a coach had been watching."

"What happened to her?" Xander asked. It would be interesting to know what people were saying. "And where is she anyway?"

"She had an accident training. She's been limping all day. She can't get in the squad, so she doesn't want to watch." Amy sounded unconcerned.

Xander blinked, surprised. Amber was still doing her routine, but now something looked wrong. He could see smoke but where was it coming from?

"That girl's on fire!" Willow exclaimed.

Amber dropped her pom-poms as her hands burst into flame, then started screaming.

Buffy froze briefly, clearly shocked, then jumped up onto the stand and pulled down a banner. She quickly ran over to Amber, knocked her to the ground, and wrapped the banner round Amber's hands, snuffing out the flames.

Xander breathed a sigh of relief.

The banner began to smoulder.

"What?" Amy sounded shocked.

The banner crumbled into ash as the flames raced up Amber's arms.

Buffy looked frantically round the room, searching for something else she could use.

Amber's hair began to burn. Xander shuddered and looked away. If only there were something he could do.

But there wasn't. Willow was white with terror, Amy kept repeating, "How?" in strangely excited tones, someone was vomiting noisily, and several people were screaming, but Xander could only stand there helpless while a few yards behind him a young girl died. He coughed as the vile stench of burning hair filled the room, underlain by a sickly sweet scent Xander didn't even want to think about. All he could do was stare at the wall and wait for the baleful light of the flames to die away.

* * *

"Nobody's ever got toasted before," Buffy said, pacing round the library.

"I imagine not," Giles replied dryly.

"So, this isn't a vampire problem."

"You said there must be a witch in town," Willow reminded them. "Could she have done it?"

"Possibly," Giles confirmed. "Or it could have been spontaneous human combustion. It is rare and scientifically unexplainable but there have been cases for hundreds of years. If it was spontaneous there's nothing we can do, but if it's a witch Buffy will have to catch her."

"Catch her? She murdered Amber." Xander said. Why not just kill the witch?

"Slayers don't kill humans, except in self-defence," Giles said. "The witch deserves a proper trial. If we can, we'll ship them to the Council in England, and they'll see justice done. Oh, and the witch might be a man."

"How?" Willow asked. "Can't she just magic her way out of captivity? And how will you get her through customs?"

"We'll keep them too drugged to do magic," Giles said. "This isn't the first time the watchers have arrested a witch, Willow. We know how to deal with the problems."

Cordelia sidled into the library. "I heard about the fire. Did Amber actually die? You know rumour."

Buffy nodded. "Nothing left, not even ashes."

Clearly shocked Cordelia looked quizzically at Giles. "Why couldn't Buffy put the fire out? Amber shouldn't have died."

"The magic the witch used must have been too strong for mundane countermeasures to overcome," Giles speculated. "Holy water should have worked though."

"Could something have, um, amplified the spell? Perhaps the witch only wanted to hurt Amber." Cordelia was looking worried.

"Well, there could have been a fortuitous astrological conjunction, or a random fluctuation in the hellmouth energies," Giles said thoughtfully.

Cordelia looked relieved, but Giles continued speaking. "More likely though, the witch actually wanted Amber to die."

Marcie spoke up, startling everyone. "Looking for excuses, Cordelia? I might have known you'd back up a witch. You've got so much in common."

Xander frowned as Cordelia winced. That was a bit much. Cordelia was no saint but she wasn't a murderer either.

"Well, it's no wonder you became invisible," Cordelia replied sharply. "With that attitude people must have been glad to forget you."

Marcie started to reply, but Giles interrupted. "Marcie, you've already spent all morning complaining about Cordelia. She didn't deliberately make you invisible. Could we concentrate on the witch? Really, you shouldn't even be listening to this."

"I'm not going to spend all day cooped up in your office," Marcie sounded annoyed. "Perhaps I can help. At least I care when people die, unlike some people I could name."

Giles started polishing his glasses, clearly frustrated.

Cordelia smiled sweetly. "We must make some allowance for Marcie. All that time utterly alone would drive most people mad. We're lucky she's still mostly sane."

"Remember the witch, people?" Buffy asked. "Burns people to death, has a pack of giant green dogs. Bickering won't stop her."

"Didn't you say Angel said something about her?" Cordelia asked.

Xander smiled. Cordelia must be about to ask a string of leading questions that would point straight at the witch, whose name she probably knew. Giles was bound to realise there was something odd when he heard her do that, which would be good. It would free him from his secrets.

"He said she was wearing her daughter's skin," Buffy said, "and can I just say eeuw."

"She's definitely a woman then," Xander said. That cut the suspects in half, if Angel was telling the truth.

"There are cults that wear the flayed skins of their victims," Giles said, thinking aloud, "but Angel was probably being metaphorical. Somehow this witch has made herself look like her daughter. It could be anything from a simple glamour to a full fledged soul transference. I'll have to research the possibilities, and ways of reversing the process."

"So, we're looking for someone who's changed a lot recently," Cordelia summarised.

That really narrowed the suspect list. Cordelia was making good progress.

"Like you," Marcie accused. Cordelia looked surprised, as though she hadn't expected that comparison.

It was a ridiculous idea though. Cordelia wasn't a nice person but "Why would the witch help us hunt her down? Why did the demon wolf attack Cordelia?"

"She's bluffing, so you won't think she's the witch," Marcie said, looking pleased with her idea.

"No," Giles said firmly. "Cordelia can't be the witch. Magic doesn't work that way."

"What way?" Willow looked puzzled, but also interested.

"I've been reviewing the books on witchcraft since the numian demon wolf appeared," Giles began, gathering his thoughts. "No witch has ever been able to kill people at a great distance without using an elaborate ritual. The witch must either have been looking at Amber when the fire started or have been casting the spell at that moment, but in the second case she would have needed to be in her sacred space, with the full set of ritual implements, which isn't something that could be concealed in the school. Cordelia was in school, but not in the gym, so she couldn't be responsible."

"Huh," Marcie spat. "You can say what you like but Cordelia must be guilty of something."

Xander frowned again. Cordelia was an easy person to hate, even if she had improved recently, but Marcie seemed almost too obsessive about it. He hoped he had never sounded like that.

"Who isn't?" Cordelia said with a dismissive shrug. "But I didn't kill Amber. The witch did. You can't blame me for everything that goes wrong in Sunnydale. I am not a walking hellmouth." Cordelia started to say something else, then bit the words off.

"Why would the witch attack both Amber and Cordelia?" Xander asked, deciding to change the subject. Marcie's attitude was getting annoying. "What do they have in common?"

"Only cheerleading," Cordelia said, then frowned. "Could that be the witch's motive?"

Since it was Cordelia asking the question, Xander knew the answer must be yes.

"Don't jump to conclusions," Giles warned. "This witch is clearly highly skilled. She probably read some of the omens. That could be why she attacked you. She could have seen something that made you look like a threat to her."

"That makes sense," Cordelia admitted reluctantly. It seemed her leading questions technique wasn't working very well on Giles, probably because he was too smart to be led. It was going to be harder than Xander had first thought for him to make Giles suspect Cordelia.

Giles looked at Buffy. "Have you seen any sign of the demon wolves on your patrols?"

Buffy shook her head. "Willow, did you find anything in that database of yours?"

"Nothing witchy," Willow replied. "Some interesting patterns but nothing that looked like human magic."

"So we've got nothing, a big fat nothing," Xander summarised.

"Not quite," Giles said, "but we need more evidence."

"So we just wait for someone else to die?" Xander wanted action.

Giles shook his head. "You should all talk to your classmates and see who has recently changed their behaviour."

That still sounded like nothing. Xander wanted to do something heroic, something that would impress Buffy. He sat back and smiled as he imagined how grateful she would be.

* * *

That night, the Bronze was half empty. Many of Amber's friends had stayed home and the band was third rate, but Xander didn't care. It was another chance to see Buffy, and that was all that mattered. Xander looked towards the door, hoping to see Buffy, and saw Willow hurry in.

"Could you be a wolf?" Willow asked nervously, before she had even sat down.

A strange question to ask, which probably meant the hellmouth was involved. That wasn't what Xander wanted to spend his evening talking about. All he wanted to do was chat with Buffy, find out what she liked, maybe dance with her.

Xander threw back his head and quietly howled. Smiling, he asked, "That wolfy enough for you?", deliberately missing the point.

Willow smiled back. "No, it's these prophecies. One of them talks about a wolf in my future, and I'm hoping it'll be you."

"Why?" Xander replied, puzzled. "I like being human, and I want to stay that way."

"The alternatives are worse," Willow paused, then began reciting the prophecy from memory. "Two wolves await her choice; two wolves show her fate. One wolf chases the sun; one wolf flees the moonlight. The jaws that bite, the claws that rend, for her they wait. Which will it be? Brother? Lover? Pray she chooses right."

Xander frowned. That was so cryptic it could mean almost anything, or nothing at all. Still, Willow was a genius. She would be able to understand it.

"You're going to have a pet wolf?" Xander hazarded, fishing for an explanation. If Willow told him what she was worried about he'd be able to stop it happening.

"No. It's saying I'm going to have a wolf for a brother," Willow said, then blushed. "Or a boyfriend, and I really hope that's metaphorical, or the wolf is or both. I won't get the wolf till after I've made my big choice, but which wolf I pick will tell you what I've chosen. It's just that both wolves sound bad. The wolf who flees moonlight is obviously a werewolf."

"Obviously," Xander echoed. Werewolves and moonlight went together. Xander briefly wondered why they would want to avoid the moonlight then stopped. Willow would already have worked that out so he didn't need to waste time thinking about it.

"And I don't want anything to do with werewolves," Willow said. "They're bad."

Xander nodded, unable to imagine his Willow consorting with a creature of the night. "So you'll pick the other wolf. Where's the problem?"

Willow frowned. "The other wolf could be Fenris. He chases the sun but he's a really big monster. He'd make a werewolf look good, but …"

"When a werewolf looks like your best choice you know you've got problems," Xander said, finishing Willow's sentence. Now he understood why Willow looked worried. If he had found out he was going to fall in love with a werewolf he'd have been nervous too.

Willow nodded. "Then I thought of you. It's a stretch but you could be a wolf, metaphorically that is, and Buffy the sun you chase."

That interpretation made perfect sense to Xander but Willow sounded uncertain. It looked like she didn't quite believe her own explanation, probably because there was something wrong with it he wasn't smart enough to spot. Why would she suggest something she didn't believe? Xander looked at Willow, waiting anxiously for a reply, and realised she must be desperate for any explanation that didn't leave a werewolf as her best choice.

"You can call me brother anytime," Xander said, telling Willow what she needed to hear.

Willow looked slightly disappointed but reassured. Xander decided to switch to a more cheerful topic before she could bring up more gloomy prophecies. "Did you see? Buffy was wearing my bracelet. It's pretty much like we're going out."

Willow smiled wanly. "Except without the hugging or the kissing or her knowing about it."

Put that way, it didn't sound too good. Xander sighed. "So I'm just a figure of fun. I should just ask her out, right?"

Willow nodded. "You won't know until you ask."

Willow was right, of course. She almost always was. That was half the reason he liked her. It saved him having to think. "That's why you're so cool," he replied, trying to show his appreciation for Willow's advice. "You're like a guy. You're my guy friend that knows about girl stuff."

"Oh, great." Willow sounded annoyed, though Xander had no idea why. "I'm a guy."

Xander struggled to think of something that would cheer Willow up. Before the harvest he had someone else who helped him do that, but Cordelia had silenced his friend, forever changing the rhythm of his conversations with Willow. Without that person to share the load Xander was finding it difficult to think of something to say. He stared at his drink, hoping for inspiration.

"Cheer up. The music isn't that bad," Buffy said.

Xander looked up and smiled. Now she was here he could be happy. Just sitting next to her was a joy in itself.

"Here," Xander said, patting the seat. "Sit down. I'll get you a drink."

Xander hurried off to the bar, looking forwards to a perfect evening.

* * *

Willow frowned. "They're still doing tryouts? After what happened yesterday?"

It was Tuesday lunchtime, and the threesome were eating lunch in the school cafeteria.

Buffy nodded. "They're saying it's what Amber would have wanted, and no one else remembers how bad it was. They're forgetting but I can't. I do want to be a cheerleader but, after seeing her die …" Buffy fell silent.

"They can't cancel tryouts," Xander said, determined to see Buffy in that uniform again. "Schools need cheerleeders, especially this one."

"So you don't just want to watch Buffy doing gymnastics in a short skirt," Marcie said sarcastically, startling everyone at the table.

"Quiet," Buffy mouthed. "They'll hear you."

"They won't," Marcie said. "It's like the invisibility. People ignore me, thanks to Cordelia."

Cordelia looked up when she heard her name, then frowned slightly.

"But we hear you," Willow mouthed silently.

"You didn't expect not to. Giles explained it to me, with diagrams. He wants you all in the library, now."

"Why?" Xander asked quietly. "Can't it wait till I've finished lunch?"

"Giles thinks he might have a cure," Marcie said sceptically. "He's tried this spell before, but now he thinks it might work if he gets more people. You've been volunteered."

Buffy and Willow scrambled to their feet, smiling broadly. Xander sighed and stood up. It was a good thing, but surely Marcie could have waited five more minutes.

"We're going to be doing magic?" Willow said excitedly. "The four of us?"

"Five," Marcie said, then sighed. "Giles says Cordelia will be useful, a first for her."

Cordelia had clearly been listening. She stood up, said something to her clique, and limped off, giving Xander and his friends a meaningful glance as she passed them.

"I'm sure it'll work this time, Marcie," Buffy said as the group began walking towards the library. "I told you Giles could help."

* * *

"This won't actually cure Marcie," Giles cautioned, "but it should help. It will let us all see her, and make it easier for me to cure her."

"But we're actually going to do magic?" Willow asked again. "Real magic? This will be fun."

"Don't even think that," Giles immediately snapped. "Magic must never be fun. Casting spells for pure enjoyment is highly dangerous."

Cordelia nodded agreement with Giles's warning. Her sources must have told her the same thing.

"Anyway," Giles continued, "You won't be actively doing anything. I just need to get the numbers right. Five people in the circle will amplify the spell, which should make it powerful enough."

Buffy glanced at the clock. "Let's get started. We don't want to keep Marcie waiting."

Giles nodded. "Have you all got a coin on you?"

Everyone nodded. "Why?" Willow looked curious.

"Part of the spell," Giles replied. "Buffy, you can push these tables against the door. Being interrupted mid-spell could be risky."

Xander looked round the room nervously. He was about to see real magic. He could hardly believe it, even after all the things he'd seen in the previous week. They'd all been nasty but this was different. This was going to be good magic.

Giles was in his office, getting extra supplies, Buffy and Cordelia were sitting on the table, their bare legs swinging eyecatchingly, and Willow was stood beside him, at the top of the stairs.

"You know what that is?" Willow asked rhetorically, looking at the chalk diagram Giles had drawn on the floor.

To Xander it looked like a pentagon inside a five pointed star which was inside a circle. There was writing around the edge of the circle, but ge couldn't even recognise the alphabet, let alone read it.

Willow answered her own question. "He's drawn a pentagram inside a circle, with a Hebrew inscription on the outside. I can't read it, but I recognise the letters. I've heard about this stuff, but I never thought I'd see it."

Giles stepped out of his office, carrying five foot-long candles, a matchbox and a cardboard packet.

"Marcie, are you in the centre of the pentagram?" Giles asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Giles said. "Everyone else, come and get a candle."

"Are you going to light these?" Cordelia asked as she walked over. "I don't want hot wax on my hands."

"It'll get rid of the hairs," Xander said as picked up a candle. They were doing this to help Marcie; Cordelia shouldn't be worried about a little discomfort.

Giles nodded. "It's quite safe. The wax will set before it reaches your hands."

"Is the spell safe? You won't accidentally summon a swarm of giant wasps, or open the hellmouth, will you? Have you done this spell before?" Cordelia seemed concerned.

Giles frowned. "I had to modify the spell a little. Marcie being invisible makes it harder to do magic on her, so I had to make some minor adjustments to strengthen the spell, but it should work."

He pulled a sewing needle out of the packet and tossed it to Marcie.

"Everyone stand in a different point of the pentagram; not at the tip, inside the triangle. It doesn't matter which one, but don't step on the chalk," Giles said, quickly stepping into the pentagram..

Xander waited for Buffy to get into position, then jumped into the point between her and Willow. Cordelia carefully stepped over the chalk, and stood between Giles and Buffy.

"Hold your coins in your right hand," Giles said, "and Marcie will put a drop of her blood on each of them."

"Blood?" Marcie said. "Do I have to?"

"I need to create a mystic connection between you and us five. Your blood, freely given, is the best way to do that. We could use your hair, but then the spell might not be strong enough."

"OK," Marcie conceded, "but why don't they have give blood?"

"Wrong symbolism," Giles said. "The coins will act as a token sacrifice, and create a second link between us and you. Either link on its own might not be enough, but a twofold link should be a strong enough bridge to let the magic work."

Xander heard movement, then Marcie said, "Done." He looked at his coin, but the blood was invisible.

"OK, carefully put the coin down behind you, blood side up, just inside the tip of the pentagram."

When everyone had stood back up, Giles lit his candle, then passed it to Cordelia. "Everyone, light your candle from mine, then pass it on, clockwise, and hold your candle in your right hand."

Once all the candles were lit Giles smiled. "Now I can begin the spell. I'll repeat an Aramaic chant three times. Whatever happens, stay perfectly still. Don't cross the lines until I give permission. Don't say anything either. Just imagine the spell working."

Giles began to chant.

At first, it was all Xander could do to keep from laughing. Everyone looking so ridiculous, just standing there with their right arms stuck out, as if they were about to start some weird dance.

Then the magic started.

Xander's skin prickled. The chalk lines began to glow and, as Giles completed the chant, the coins floated in to the air. He could see them opposite him, glimmering faintly in the afternoon light, hovering just above everyone else's heads.

As Giles began the chant for a second time, his voice full of authority, Xander's skin began to tingle pleasantly. The flame of his candle brightened, then two beams of white light shot out, linking up with the candles Buffy and Willow held.

Xander blinked, dazzled by the lights, then looked again. The five candles had formed a solid ring of light. Inside the ring, the air within the central pentagon began to glow. Against that glow he could just make out a dim silhouette which had to be Marcie.

For the third time, Giles chanted, in a thunderous voice that shook the room.

Now Xander could feel the magic in the air. Sparks were crackling across his skin, across everyone's skin, and then their eyes had begun to glow. Pulses of light spiralled inwards from the ring formed by the candles they held, and with every pulse the figure of Marcie grew clearer. As Giles's voice rose to a deafening crescendo the five coins swooped in, circled Marcie's head once clockwise, then hit her forehead and vanished.

Marcie snapped into full view, looking just as real as anything in that room. There was a final blinding flash of light, then everything went still.

The chalk lines had vanished, along with the candles and the coins, but Marcie had appeared; a girl in ragged clothes, almost as plain looking as Willow, who Xander still couldn't remember ever seeing before. Buffy and Willow rushed to hug her, while Cordelia watched, a faint smile on her face.

"Tidy spell," Xander remarked, struggling not to seem too impressed. Buffy was used to this kind of thing, so it would look better to her if he didn't seem overawed by a little magic, however impressed he actually was. It was the kind of thing Xander had thought only happened in dreams, but if he had been dreaming Marcie would have had fewer clothes.

"This is wonderful," Marcie exclaimed, looking at her hands. "I'm cured. I can see myself again. You can see me. Thank you all." Marcie looked at Cordelia and grimaced. "Even you."

"Ahem," Giles coughed politely. "This isn't a full cure. We can all see Marcie, because we cast the spell, but we will be the only people who can. To everyone else she is still invisible."

Giles looked directly at Marcie. "Finding a full cure will be hard. Being able to see you myself will make the magic easier but, even so, it will probably take weeks to find an effective cure for your condition. At least now, you can behave normally with us five. This should make your life more bearable."

Marcie looked disappointed at first, but then she smiled mischievously and looked at Cordelia. "This could be fun."

* * *

"Despite the terrible thing that happened yesterday we still have to pick new cheerleaders," Joy said. "If you make the team you'll find your names posted in the quad after school. We will continue from where we were interrupted yesterday."

Xander stopped listening to Joy when Buffy sat down next to him and Willow. After they'd cast that spell, which had been a truly incredible experience, Buffy had rushed off to get ready for the tryouts, despite Giles's objections.

"Going to show us some real gymnastics? Quadruple back somersaults?" Xander asked, covertly admiring the way the cheerleading uniform enhanced Buffy's incredible figure.

Buffy scowled. "That would be cheating. I'm doing this because it's normal, and I always enjoyed it back at Hemery. I'm not going to ruin the one normal thing in my life by being freaky."

"One?" Willow sounded slightly hurt.

"Apart from my friends. You guys are good and normal," Buffy said hastily. "Amy's looking good."

Xander glanced at the gym floor, where Amy was doing her audition. It looked perfect to him, but Joy was frowning.

"And she only started practising a few weeks ago," Willow said.

"You sure?" Buffy asked.

Willow's reply was interrupted by Marcie's shrill laughter. Xander looked down the bench and sighed. Marcie was still harassing Cordelia. She deserved some harassment, of course, but Marcie was going way over the top. She had started by pulling faces at Cordelia, which was only what Xander would have done, but when Cordelia hadn't reacted she had sat on her knee and yanked Harmony's hair, making it look as though Cordelia were responsible. That was definitely excessive. Verbal sparring could be fun, but physical violence was wrong. If it had been anyone else Xander would have gone and stopped Marcie but the thought of defending Cordelia was just too weird. It wasn't as though her life were in danger.

Buffy winced. "What does Marcie have against Cordelia? She's trying to be helpful."

"Ignoring her till she vanished?" Xander suggested. "You haven't seen Cordelia at her worst, but Marcie is going too far."

Buffy sighed and stood up. "Marcie should be more grateful." She walked down to the opposite end of the bench, where Cordelia was sat with her popular friends.

Xander looked at Willow, then the two friends followed Buffy.

"Who invited the losers down here?" Harmony said, an ugly look on her face.

Xander smiled, not deigning to reply. Harmony tried her best but she just wasn't in Cordelia's league. Swapping insults with Cordelia was an enjoyable challenge, but it was too easy to score off Harmony, not worth the effort.

Buffy casually sat down next to Cordelia, smoothly nudging Marcie away.

"But Cordy's so nice," Buffy said, glaring at Marcie. "We've got so much to be thankful to her for. We came to be sympathetic, since she's still hurting."

"Thanks to you," Willow said, giving Marcie a stern look, before turning to face Harmony, "people's obsession with cheerleading. What's the point?"

"I get the point," Marcie said, looking unhappy. "I was only trying to have a little fun but these people make me so angry." Marcie paused then grudgingly added, "I suppose Cordelia might not be quite as bad as I thought, but she still deserves decades of torment."

"Buffy Summers," Joy called, as Amy walked back to the benches.

Buffy stood up, looked warningly at Marcie, then walked out into the middle of the floor, ready to begin her routine.

Willow waved at Amy and shouted, "Over here."

Amy just shuddered, then went to the far end of the benches, ignoring Willow.

"What's got into her?" Willow muttered.

"And since when has Amy wanted to be a cheerleader?" Cordelia added, in what she clearly meant to be a thoughtful tone.

Xander looked at Willow and smiled. Cordelia was dropping hints again. He had no idea what she was getting at but Willow clearly did.

"She's the wrong shape," Harmony spat. "Our cheerleaders should all be beautiful, like Cordelia."

"You think Cordelia's attractive?" Xander said suggestively.

"No!" Harmony exclaimed without thinking. There were dozens of better replies she could have made, but when it came to words she had all the dexterity of a drunken elephant. Her tongue might be sharp, but not her wits. The way she went on to dig herself deeper in trouble proved that. "Cordelia is not attract-, um, she is but-, well..."

Pale with anger, Harmony abruptly changed tack. "I'm sure Amy can be persuaded to drop out, for the good of the school."

Harmony stalked off towards Amy, mumbling unintelligibly.

Xander looked at Cordelia. "Are you feeeling better?" It couldn't be much fun for her, being forced to sit on the sidelines and watch.

"Amy's mom was a big time cheerleader, way back when," Marcie said thoughtfully. "And this is a change in Amy's personality, like Giles said. Could she be a suspect?"

Xander smiled. That was a bit of a stretch but it fitted with the hints Cordelia had dropped. They could tell Giles that idea later, and see if he bought it. At that moment though, all he wanted to do was watch Buffy's routine. Xander sat down, ignoring the Cordettes, and stared at Buffy, admiring her grace.

Buffy was so beautiful, and friendly too. That was good but Xander wanted more. Buffy had his heart; it was only fair that she give him hers in exchange. She didn't seem interested, but Xander knew he could easily change that. All he had to do was impress her. Saving her life would be best, guaranteeing kisses, but that wasn't something he could do immediately. There had to be something brave he could do to win her heart, but he hadn't thought of it yet.

Marcie shouted, interrupting Xander's reverie. "Xander! Come here."

Xander looked up. Marcie was standing at the far end of the bench, next to Amy. Willow had gone up there too, as had Cordelia and her friends. They were all arguing but, even from his distance, Xander could see something was odd about the body language.

Xander sighed, stood up and walked over to join Willow. He'd rather just sit and watch Buffy but he needed to know what was going on.

"Amy's no worse than Buffy," Cordelia said as Xander approached, smiling at Willow. She briefly smiled back at him then returned to studying the three arguing girls. Xander had suspected there was something odd going on but Willow being interested proved it.

"The psycho weirdo? Hardly a glowing recommendation," Harmony replied.

"Buffy doesn't even train properly," Amy said. "I'm much better than her. I'm as good as my mom ever was."

"Doesn't mean much," Harmony said. "Her old routines are so passé, and Cordelia is so much better than she ever was."

Cordelia winced slightly as Amy's fists clenched.

"Cordelia has many talents," Amy said reluctantly, glancing sideways nervously. "Not like you. A blind frog would be more use than you."

Xander listened as the three girls bickered, too intent on each other to notice him. The scene looked almost normal, but it was subtly off-key. Harmony was just being her normal catty self but the other two girls were definitely acting oddly.

Cordelia was trying to calm the other two girls down, attempting to be diplomatic, though she clearly lacked practice. It might just be part of her new improved personality, but that wouldn't account for the nervous way Cordelia was looking at Amy, or the way Cordelia was twitching every time Harmony insulted Amy. It had to be because Cordelia thought Amy was the witch. Even Cordelia wouldn't want to insult someone who could turn her into a human torch.

Amy was acting the most oddly. Many people were nervous around Cordelia but they didn't normally pale at the sight of her. Amy had though, and her voice was shaky. Amy was definitely scared of Cordelia, but why? If she was the witch she could kill Cordelia with a single spell. Even if she wasn't the witch Amy must know something, there was no other explanation for her behaviour, but if she was the witch … Xander wasn't sure he wanted to know what could scare a witch.

Joy blew her whistle. "OK, Buffy, we've seen enough." Joy glanced at the clock. "We're going to have to skip the rest of the individual auditions, and move straight on to group performance."

Amy smiled and hurried away, clearly glad for the excuse to escape Cordelia.

Xander sat down. Now that little drama was over he could get back to his favourite activity, watching Buffy.

Willow sat down next to him. "So what did you think?"

Xander repressed a sigh and began talking.

* * *

After school had finished, Xander watched Willow go into her home, then began walking to his house. It had been a good day. He had done magic, got a C- on his homework and spent an enjoyable half hour watching Buffy audition. True, Amy's strange behaviour had spoilt things slightly, but even that had had a good side. When they had told Giles about Amy he had agreed she was a plausible suspect, and come up with a simple test that would confirm if she was guilty. They wouldn't have a chance to use it until after lunch on Wednesday, but once they had the proof they could swing into action. Giles had been researching body switching spells so he'd just put Amy back in the right body, then Buffy would take care of Amy's mom and that problem would be over.

It was a good plan, but it did have one small flaw. There was nothing for Xander to do. He wanted a chance to impress Buffy with his heroism, but it looked like all he would be doing would be watching her. That was fun, but it wasn't enough. Xander knew he couldn't fight the witch directly, he didn't have Buffy's strength or Giles's magical expertise, but there had to be something he could do, some way he could help stop the witch.

Willow had found something to do. She was investigating Amy's mom online, checking her history for signs of magic, so that Giles would have a better idea what the witch was capable of. Cordelia had her own sources of information, which she would use to make herself look good. Xander didn't mind about Willow, she had always been better than him, but there was no way he would tolerate Cordelia looking better than him at something important.

He didn't have her information sources though. He wasn't a mouthpiece for a secret society. No one ever told him anything. The only way he could find out anything useful about Amy's mom would be by spying on her.

Xander suddenly stopped walking, stunned by his brilliant idea. With a little luck Amy would spend the night ranting non-stop about her plans and powers the way all the comics said was the standard procedure for evil masterminds. Even if Amy's mom hadn't read the manual he should be able to see something useful.

* * *

Five minutes later Xander was crouched behind a rose bush in Amy's back garden, looking up at the house.

"Are her neighbours blind?" Xander muttered. Green fog was billowing out of the attic windows, completely hiding the roof. That proved Amy was the witch, or rather that her mother was. Xander looked round the garden, trying to work out how he could get closer to the house without being spotted. He didn't want to do anything dangerous but hiding behind a rose bush wouldn't impress Buffy.

Behind Xander something growled.

Xander turned round slowly, dreading what he might see. One of the demon wolves was standing there, just inches away. It kicked Xander, knocking him flat on his back, then bit his foot. Xander screamed as the teeth pierced his ankle, but the demon ignored him, and began dragging him towards the house. Perhaps this hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all.

* * *

"Good boy!" Amy said, "Put him on the sofa."

The demon followed Amy's instruction, dropping Xander head first on the sofa. He quickly sat upright and looked around, wincing as his ankle throbbed with pain. Amy was sat opposite him still wearing her cheerleader's uniform, with just a coffee table between them, her mother was stood behind her holding a first aid kit, and there were two demon wolves behind him.

"Amy," the person who looked like her said, "bandage him up. I don't want blood on my clean carpets."

Amy's mom knelt on the floor and began to bandage Xander's ankle. At least, that was what it looked like, but Xander remembered what Angel had told them.

"Amy?" Xander asked tentatively. Her mother's head nodded slightly. Angel, and Cordelia, had been right. Amy was trapped in her mother's body, bandaging his ankle, while her mother, the witch, sat opposite him.

"Why did you have the first aid kit out?" Xander asked. He didn't really want to know, but the longer he kept the witch talking, the more chance there was that someone would rescue him.

She smiled. "I knew you were coming."

"How?" Xander asked, genuinely curious. If it had been prophesied, or she had used some spell to lure him, his predicament wouldn't be his fault.

She tapped the coffee table. "The cards told me."

Xander looked again at the table. There was a deck of cards there and a single face up card next to it.

"Playing patience?" Xander asked, trying to look relaxed despite the pain.

The witch smiled. "Do you recognise the card?"

Xander leaned over the table, examining the card. It had a hand-drawn picture on it; a man walking along a cliff edge while a dog snapped at his heels. "Let me guess. These are magic cards."

"They are Tarot cards." She pointed at the face up card. "And that is the Fool."

Xander frowned, not liking the implication. "So the cards said a fool was coming, and you thought of me?"

The witch laughed scornfully. "The Fool embodies all the wisdom and folly of life, but draws no distinction between the two. He is a primal archetype, father to the trickster, cousin of chaos. He is the laughter of the cosmos made manifest. He dances on the cliff edge, and the universe follows in his wake. He breaks all the rules. Even the iron chains of prophecy shatter at his touch. He could save us all, if he cared."

She paused, in what Xander considered an unnecessarily dramatic fashion.

Amy pulled the bandage tight, making Xander gasp in pain.

"But you are not the Fool," the witch continued. "Just a joker in the pack, one of millions, mere comic relief."

She smiled, as if at some secret joke, and looked at Xander, clearly waiting for a response.

"Nice speech. Eight out of ten for style, but only two for content," Xander joked, trying to sound unimpressed by the witch's mind games. At least she seemed willing to talk, which would give Buffy plenty of time to rescue him.

Amy finished bandaging Xander's ankle and looked at her mother. "What should I do now?"

"Where are your manners?" the witch asked. "We have a guest in the house. Make him welcome. Serve him coffee and cakes, on my second-best china, then go straight to your room and do my homework."

As Amy scurried into the kitchen Xander stared at the witch amazed. That was the kind of thing normal people said, people like Willow's mom. It didn't sound right coming from someone who burned people alive.

The witch smiled. "I do so hate bad manners. Besides, they were right. It's such fun to watch you sitting there, knowing I could kill you at a whim. It's a lovely sensation, this feeling of power, almost as much fun as cheerleading. I'd recommend you try it, but you'll be dead before you get a chance."

"They?" Xander asked. He didn't care how much the witch enjoyed herself. As long as she kept talking he had a chance.

"My new allies," she said, "the lords of the mist. They told me how to get these cute dogs. Such good value, I just couldn't resist the bargain. Normally they cost an arm and a leg each but I got half a dozen for just one hand."

"You won them at poker?"

"No," the witch said, smiling. "I threw my left hand in to the sea and they came to me, running across the waves to greet their new mummy."

"Your hand?" Xander echoed, shuddering. "But you've still got two." The witch must be talking metaphorically, but the thought of someone cutting their own hand off made him feel uneasy.

The witch chuckled and waved her left hand. "Watch."

As Xander watched, the witch's left hand shimmered and faded away, revealing a jagged stump. Xander gulped and looked away. She really had cut her own hand off, but why? What could have driven her to such extremes?

"I use a simple glamour to make people see the hand, and telekinesis to pick up stuff with it. It's a trivial illusion for a witch of my skills," the witch said, clearly pleased with herself.

"But why? Why did you do it?" Xander asked, bending down to rub his ankle.

"One is the first, and smallest, number," she replied. "Now the last evil comes. Last Monday it touched the world, and the very gods screamed in terror, the cowards. Soon the hellmouth will be ripped open. Then I'll need these lovely dogs to keep the supernatural vermin from my door."

"You've been having bad dreams too," Xander guessed, remembering what Giles had said about the omens.

The witch shuddered. "If you had seen what I saw …" She fell silent, her face pale with remembered terror, then nerved herself to speak. In a quiet voice she added. "It made hell look like a picnic. A weaker mind would have gone nuts, but not me. I don't keep having flashbacks. I'm not scared of the dark. I am still perfectly sane, aren't I?"

Xander thought about telling the truth, then decided to lie. "Yes."

Amy walked back into the room and put two cups and a plate piled high with cake on the coffee table. Xander snatched up a piece of chocolate cake and began eating.

"This is good stuff," he mumbled, forcing the rest of the cake into his mouth. The witch might be completely insane, but at least she knew how to feed him.

"Manners, boy!" she snapped. Xander hurriedly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Then she smiled. "And you are supposed to be the world's only hope? I wouldn't trust you or any of your pathetic friends to rescue a kitten from a tree. The powers that be are idiots clutching at straws. I have a better plan."

"You do?" Xander said, surprised. Giles had seemed to think there was no alternative.

"Yes," she said. "The last is as unstoppable as the tides, but I am a witch. I know how to nudge the cosmic forces my way. I can ride the tiger, and remake the world as I see fit. My allies will lend me the strength I need, for they too fear the last. All I will have to do is kill Cordelia, then sacrifice twenty-seven people every full moon, until the end of time."

The witch shrugged. "It's a pity so many people will have to die. Killing them will be hard but it will be worth it to save the world, right? If I only sacrifice unpopular people nobody will mind. They'll build statues of me in every town."

Xander choked on his cake. That wasn't an acceptable alternative. Saving the world wasn't worth killing anyone.

"Why kill Cordelia? She's nothing special." Giles had said that Xander and Willow were just as special as Cordelia, so why was she being singled out for special treatment?

The witch scowled. "Cordelia is the mother of abomination."

"Who is the father?" Xander asked, smiling.

"You are, and Willow is its midwife."

Xander picked up a third slice of cake. "I really hope you aren't being literal." There was no way he wanted to get close enough to Cordelia for that. It would be as bad as kissing Willow.

Admittedly, Cordelia was much more attractive, but only in a physical sense. She'd need to improve a lot before he could enjoy spending time with her.

"Wait and see." The witch smiled, and sipped her coffee.

Xander smiled. She was too obviously trying to make him nervous. She had to be lying.

"But why didn't you just burn Cordelia?" he asked casually, trying to act as if this was a perfectly normal conversation.

The witch frowned. "The cards say she has seen much of the occult, as much as Buffy."

Since when? Willow thought she had little more than a week's experience. Cordelia herself only claimed to have a month's experience. She might have been told a lot but how much could she have actually seen in so little time?

"She could have any number of arcane defences," the witch explained. "Direct attack would be a foolish strategy. That's why I sent my little dog. I watched through its eyes, and studied your actions."

"Learn anything useful?" Xander asked, hoping she'd say no.

She smiled. "I saw Buffy in action."

"And lost your dog. You're no match for her," Xander said, smiling confidently.

The witch shrugged. "I dug up the skull, and he came back to life. Since then I've been investigating all four of you, trying to find out what makes you special. It's been a frustrating week, but now my problems are over. You will tell me everything I need to know."

"No," Xander said firmly. "I won't say a word."

The witch giggled. "Silly boy. You won't have a choice." She lunged across the table, grabbed Xander by the neck, and yanked him onto the floor. Xander started to struggle, but the demon wolves growled.

"Stay still. This won't hurt."

Xander lay on the floor, wondering what the witch was planning. He didn't dare turn his head, but he could hear her rummaging in a tin.

The witch knelt at his side, a small knife in her hand, and rolled Xander onto his back then ripped his T-shirt off, then smiled appreciatively.

"This might be even more fun than I expected," she said, licking her lips.

The witch forced Xander's legs flat on the floor, then knelt astride him. "Look at me," she commanded.

Xander looked up. The witch leered, then began carving a line in her own forehead with the knife. Strange behaviour, but better her than him. The witch didn't grimace, didn't show any sign of pain. Without ever removing the knife from her forehead she drew a perfect pentagram there, in her own blood.

"Your turn," the witch muttered, then dropped her knife. She carefully traced the lines of the pentagram on her forehead with her fingers, covering them in blood, then bent over, leaning closer, until her hair was tickling Xander's cheeks.

With her ring finger the witch drew a line of blood on Xander's bare chest, from just under his left shoulder to directly under his heart.

Looking directly into his eyes, she chanted, "You are the leaf. I am the tree."

She had to be trying some magic spell, but it wouldn't work. Xander would never do anything that might hurt his friends, not even for a girl as pretty as the witch.

The witch drew a second line on Xander's chest, from the end of the first upwards and to his right, making a v shape. "You are the pebble. I am the mountain."

The pentagram on Amy's forehead began to glow bright red. Xander had never realised how beautiful she was before, almost as beautiful as Buffy. He could sense her magic in the air, making his skin tingle. She was so powerful, but she was evil. Xander would never obey her.

Amy reached up to her forehead and put more blood on her fingers, then drew a third line on Xander's chest, slanting leftwards and crossing the first line. Xander wasn't sure, but it seemed like she was drawing a pentagram round his heart. "You are the raindrop. I am the ocean."

Xander looked up at Amy. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, so beautiful she made even Buffy seem as plain as Willow. Amy was so much better than Xander, so much wiser. She might not be very good, but Xander wished he was on her side. Xander would do almost anything for her, except hurt people, especially not his friends.

Amy tenderly drew a fourth line on Xander's bare skin. "You are nothing. I am your god."

Amy was right. He was worthless, an idiot Willow and Buffy had taken pity on. Amy was perfection, everything he could ever want to be. She was wiser than any man could ever be, a living goddess. Nothing she wanted could ever be wrong, nothing at all. He would do anything she asked, anything at all, but there was nothing this sublime creature could want from him.

Amy drew a final line, completing the pentagram. "Surrender your soul to me."

"Gladly. How may I serve you?" Xander replied, meaning every word.

"First, you will answer all my questions," Xander's goddess announced, running her fingers through Xander's hair.

Xander smiled, filled with joy at his goddess's touch, but in the deepest recesses of his heart his soul screamed in agony.


	6. Fighting Fog: Morning struggle

Confused, Xander opened his eyes and looked around. The last thing he remembered was waving goodbye to Willow but now he was somewhere else. Had he been knocked out and kidnapped?. His body ached as though he had just been beaten up. Everything was out of focus, but it felt like he was tied down on some hard surface, and there were dark shapes looming over him, mumbling unintelligibly.

Something wet landed on Xander's chest, on his bare skin. For a brief moment the droplets burned him, then the pain vanished.

"And the dark shall have no dominion," someone said.

Xander blinked, and everything came into focus. He was in the library, with Giles dripping water on him while Buffy and Willow watched anxiously. At the sight of their faces he relaxed.

"Um, guys, what's going on?" Xander asked. Buffy must have had a good reason for tying him to the table, but he couldn't guess what it might be.

Willow looked at Giles. "Is it really him?" she asked, sounding close to tears.

Giles dropped a little more water on Xander. When he didn't flinch Giles nodded.

Smiling broadly, Willow dived onto the table and wrapped Xander in a smothering hug, babbling incoherently into his ear.

Xander gently nudged her away. "Why am I tied up?"

Buffy bent down and began untying him. Willow looked at Xander, blushed, and stood up.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Willow asked.

"I waved good bye to you, and then," Xander tried to remember more, "Then I decided to spy on Amy, see if she was doing anything witchy, and then …"

"No! Don't think about it," Giles said sharply.

Despite Giles's warning images flashed through Xander's mind; green fog, chocolate cake, Amy's face, each of them suffused with an aura of terror. Xander shuddered, not wanting to remember any more.

"Why?" Willow asked. "It'll do Xander good to talk."

"No," Giles said. "It's not safe. Remembering what she did to you could put you back under her spell. Remembering doing what she made you do could impair your sanity. Some things are best forgotten."

"But what happened?" Xander persisted, wanting to know why Willow had been so upset.

"Can't we say anything?" Willow added. "Xander can't remember what not to remember without maybe remembering more than is good, which isn't good, so shouldn't we tell him enough for him to be able to know what he mustn't remember without actually remembering it?"

Giles smiled and began polishing his glasses. "A dry recitation of the facts shouldn't hurt, as long as Xander remembers not to remember yesterday."

Giles turned to face Xander. "You must remain emotionally detached from those events. Think of them as if they happened to someone else."

"Yesterday? What day is it?" Xander asked worriedly. He hoped he hadn't lost too long.

"It's ten to nine on Wednesday, the twentieth of March. Amy caught you yesterday," Giles said offhandedly, looking thoughtful.

Buffy stood up. "That's your arms free."

Xander sat up. There was still one rope fastening his legs to the table and a second tying his ankles together, but at least he wasn't stuck staring at the ceiling. Buffy started untying the first rope.

"Amy seized control of your mind," Giles explained.

"She hypnotised me?" Xander echoed. That explained everything.

Giles sighed. "Rather more than that. Normal hypnotism has definite limits. It can not compel people to hurt themselves, or to do wrong. In essence, hypnotism can not touch the soul, can not deprive you of a conscience. At most, it can play tricks with your memory. To do more takes magic. Amy did more, much more. With her dark magics she split your mind and soul, imprisoning your soul inside your heart. That left you without a conscience, but with a void in your mind. Amy filled that void with her desires, warping your mind to suit her purpose. You became her puppet and, unlike hypnotism, it would never have worn off."

"She hypnotised me," Xander repeated. The details weren't important.

Willow shuddered. "It was horrible. You kept laughing and you had this knife, but Giles knew what to do. He did some magic and washed the pentagram away with holy water."

"Well, at least we know who the witch is, for certain," Xander said, trying to sound positive.

"We would have found that out anyway, this afternoon, when we did the test. Six hours, that's all you gained us. Do you think it was worth it?" Cordelia said, sounding annoyed, as she stepped out of Giles's office.

"Well, Amy has inadvertently made it straightforward for us to force her out of her stolen body without needing to acquire her spellbook. Because of the way she touched your soul she …"

Shocked by the sight of Cordelia, Xander stopped listening to Giles. What had happened to her? She had sticking plasters all over her arms, covering long cuts, and her top had been slashed in several places.

"You should be sitting down," Willow said, pulling out a chair for Cordelia.

"You would have done that anyway," Cordelia told Giles.

"I would have needed her spellbook," Giles said.

"Which is probably guarded by dozens of those demon wolves," Willow added, defending Xander.

Xander recovered from his shock enough to speak. "Cordelia, what happened to you? Are you OK? Who hurt you? I'll …"

As Cordelia silently glared at Xander, an awful realisation slowly dawned on him.

"I did," Xander said quietly, answering his own question. He remembered the knife, how he had …

"Xander!" Giles snapped. "Don't think about it."

Xander shuddered. "I don't want to."

"Good," Giles smiled reassuringly. "We have gained from your misjudgement. Never forget that, but remember the price. Spying on Amy by yourself was foolish. You should always consult me before doing any slaying-related activity."

"What were you thinking?" Buffy asked, as she pulled the rope away from his knees. "Anything could have happened. She could have turned you into a frog, or killed you. It's not safe for you to do that kind of thing when I'm not there. Look what happened to Cordelia."

Willow nodded, looking concerned.

Xander smiled weakly. "Me and Willow have an arrangement. She does all our thinking; I do all the heavy lifting," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Willow smiled, but Cordelia didn't seem to like the joke.

"What will you do when you haven't got Willow?" she asked, her voice sad, as she walked towards the table.

"Never happen," Xander said. "Are you sure you're OK? Shouldn't you go to the nurse, or something?"

Cordelia smiled. "Trying to get rid of me again? They're only shallow cuts. Giles soon patched them up. It took me longer to get my hair combed. You really messed it up."

Xander didn't know what to say. Either Cordelia was incredibly shallow, which didn't match her recent behaviour, or she was accustomed to being attacked by knife-wielding madmen, but Xander was almost certain he would have noticed if she had regularly come to school covered in plasters. He just didn't understand her.

Buffy stopped untying the rope and looked at Cordelia. "You almost died, and you worry about your hair?"

"Appearances are important," Cordelia said simply. "You don't let slaying spoil your looks, most of the time."

"Yes," Buffy conceded, "but I'm used to it, and none of my friends have ever tried to kill me, not while they were alive."

Cordelia shrugged, looking amused. "You're on the hellmouth now. These things happen. I know some people don't want me here, but I want to help, and if that means I have to put up with stuff like this," Cordelia looked regretfully at her arms, "I will."

Buffy turned and glared meaningfully at Xander.

Cordelia looked directly at Xander. "But this should never have happened."

Xander knew Cordelia was only trying to guilt-trip him, but she was still right. He didn't like Cordelia but killing her was going much too far. She had been hurt, and it was his fault. He had been too eager to impress Buffy. He supposed she deserved some kind of apology, repugnant though the notion was, and Buffy clearly expected one. If Buffy thought he should apologise she must be right.

He swung his legs off the table and stood up, facing Cordelia.

"Cordelia," Xander began hesitantly, then stopped. That sounded too formal. Xander knew he could never like her, but she was on his side. Buffy had been right, he should at least try and be friendly to her. According to Giles and his prophecies, they needed her and, if half what she'd said about herself on Sunday had been true, she needed help. She was trying to be a good person, but she needed his support. He had never let down anyone who needed him, and he wasn't about to start now. However much he disliked her, he had to help her. He just hoped her secrets wouldn't cause a problem.

Xander began to take a tentative step towards Cordelia, then realised his ankles were still tied together. He fell forwards, managing to land on his knees, at her feet. She looked down at him and smiled, clearly amused.

Inwardly, Xander sighed. He couldn't really stand up until someone untied his ankles and he liked the approving way Buffy was smiling.

"Cordy," Xander began, "I never meant to hurt you. It was all my fault. I'm …"

The library doors swung open.

"What!" Harmony gasped. She was standing in the doorway, looking shocked. "What happened to your arms? What's going on? Aura said she saw you sneaking in here yesterday, but I didn't really believe her."

Giles hurriedly closed the library doors.

Harmony smiled, looking pleased with herself. "Well, wait until I tell her about this. You, in the library, with a geek, a psycho, and Xander, topless! It will make her day."

Xander had forgotten about that, worried by more important things, but he really didn't want to argue with Harmony while only half-dressed. It was too embarrassing. He looked frantically round the room and spotted a tattered shirt under the table. It must have been ripped off so Giles could do his magic.

He groaned and tried to stand up but the rope round his ankles tripped him. Buffy caught him and helped him upright.

"And why is Xander tied up?" Harmony demanded.

There had to be an innocent explanation, but Xander couldn't think of one. He looked hopefully at Willow.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cordelia asked scornfully, "We're rehearsing for the annual talent show."

"Already?" Harmony said. "That's not for ages yet."

"Xander needs the practice," Cordelia explained, as if stating the obvious.

"But why Xander, and why all these other wierdos?"

"Mr Giles suggested us," Buffy said nervously. "He thought we looked the part."

"He's only a librarian," Harmony sneered.

Giles smiled. "I was a brilliant actor at university, but books are my vocation."

Harmony looked doubtful.

"I found them some spare clothes. What's she doing here?" Marcie said.

Xander turned to look. Marcie had just stepped into the library, carrying his gym shirt and a long sleeved top for Cordelia.

Harmony turned to see what Cordelia was looking at and shrieked.

"What's up now?" Cordelia asked with fake sympathy.

"Clothes can't fly. I didn't see that," Harmony told herself firmly. "If you're only rehearsing, why are you all cut up?"

"Method acting," Willow answered. "Perhaps you've heard of it."

Cordelia smiled at Willow as Harmony twitched.

"And what weird play is this?" Harmony asked sceptically.

"Boadiccea," Buffy said. "It's one of the classics."

"We're doing the scene after the Romans punished her for defying them," Giles explained. "She's telling her son her plans."

"The 'I am only a woman, but I have the heart of England in my hands' speech," Cordelia said, making Giles wince.

"So cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war, because this is a finer thing we do than ever afore," Xander helpfully added, hoping Harmony wouldn't ask about the rope.

"And all men hiding in my bed will wish they'd fought under me instead," Buffy finished, waving her arms dramatically.

Willow winced.

"Whatever," Harmony said. "I'm sure your act will be really funny. I was looking for you, but obviously you are too busy."

Harmony turned and walked out of the library, muttering under her breath.

Buffy looked at Giles. "Do you think she believed us?"

* * *

"This everything?" Buffy asked, five minutes later, putting a camera in her bag.

Giles nodded. "Is everyone ready?"

Xander nodded nervously. He didn't like the plan but it was the only one they had. At least he would have a key role.

"You can't think of anything safer?" Cordelia asked, looking concerned. "She's better at magic than you are."

"She's stronger," Giles admitted. "She stole Xander's soul. Even if she drugged him first, that still shows enormous strength. But this is the largest occult library west of the Mississippi. Raw power is no match for superior wisdom."

He paused. "The witch could decide to attack us at any moment. It's the most sensible thing for her to do now that she knows we're hunting her. We'd be forced to fight on her terms. We haven't got time to create a perfect plan but this will work."

That was the third time Giles had said that, but Cordelia seemed reluctant to believe the witch would act that way. She wanted Buffy to steal Amy's spellbook despite the risks, saying that was the way things should work.

"You can always stay here and polish your nails," Marcie said, scowling at Cordelia. "I'm going to help, whatever the risk."

Cordelia glared at Marcie. "It's easy for you to say that, Miss I'm-so-invisible-magic-can't-see-me, some of us could get hurt doing this."

Xander smiled. Marcie had been hesitantly willing to help even before Giles had told her about that, but the moment Giles had said how hard it was to do magic on invisible people Marcie had become much more eager.

Giles nodded. "Cordelia is right to be cautious. This will be risky but it is our only choice."

* * *

Buffy raced into the science lab. "She's right behind me."

Hidden behind the benches, Xander looked at Willow and smiled. Stage one of Giles's plan had worked. Buffy had lured the witch into an ambush. Next Marcie would do her thing, then it would be his turn.

Xander swallowed nervously and peered through a crack at Buffy. She looked so beautiful, a delicate flower half hidden behind the teacher's desk.

"I see you," Amy laughed in the doorway. Xander shuddered at the sight of her, memories racing through his brain, memories of what he had done to Cordelia, memories of what Amy had done with him. He looked down at the floor, trying to calm himself. This wasn't good. He had to be able to look Amy in the eye, or their plan would fail, but he could hardly bear to look in her direction.

Then Xander heard the door close.

"You are trapped," Amy gloated.

Xander shivered. The memories her voice woke were nightmarish but not half so terrifying as the urge he felt to crawl at her feet. She looked perfectly normal, yet there was something about the sound of her voice, the sight of her pretty face, that made him want to purr.

He shook his head, and tried to gather his thoughts. Giles had warned him that the spell would have some lingering side effects, but he hadn't expected them to be so strong. he hurriedly put his hands over his ears. He was sure he would be able to resist Amy's magnetism, with the help of his friends, but he didn't need to start that fight yet.

Willow rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, looking nervous.

"Muscle is useless against magic," Amy said confidently, her sweet voice muffled by Xander's hands, "and Giles is still in the library."

Xander smiled. They'd let Amy see them all in the library, then sneaked out through the stacks while Buffy lured Amy here, an empty classroom where she would never expect to be ambushed.

"Hermes Trismegistus, this room I ask you to seal. Let nothing escape, however small, not even a squeal," Amy chanted, then casually said, "Now you have only two choices. You can become my slave, like Xander is, or you can die."

"Tough choice," Buffy sarcastically replied. "I pick number three. You lose."

"You dare!" Amy screamed, then Xander heard a body hit the ground. What was happening? Was Buffy OK? He had to know what was happening, but he didn't want to forget which side he was on. Xander hesitated, then looked up nervously. Buffy was fighting for him; the least he could do was watch. He just had to remember not to look too closely at Amy.

Buffy was wrestling Amy, while Marcie scurried round their feet. Amy was trying to push Buffy away, but Buffy had a firm grip on Amy's left arm and every time Amy began a spell, Buffy punched her, just like Giles had told her to. As long as she didn't get a chance to complete any spells Amy was mostly harmless, or so Giles had said.

Amy wrenched her right arm free and pointed at the teacher's chair. Before Buffy could react, the chair sprang off the floor and hurled towards Buffy, hitting her on back of her head. Xander gulped. That wasn't part of the plan.

Before Buffy could recover from the surprise impact, Amy pulled completely free and, with a wave of her hand, hurled Buffy against the door. Buffy looked dazed, but struggled to her feet.

Amy began to chant, her voice musical.

Marcie drew the final chalk line near Amy's feet.

Amy stopped her spell and cursed as the chalk diagram Marcie had drawn began to glow a bright blue.

"It worked," Marcie squealed excitedly.

"Of course," Giles said as he stood up, closely followed by Willow and Cordelia. "The seal of Solomon is an age-hallowed symbol of great power. It doesn't need magical talent to make it work."

Xander decided to stay hidden. He wasn't scared, Buffy wouldn't let Amy hurt him, but Amy didn't seem to know her spell had been broken. Surprising her might make things easier, and it would give him more time to prepare himself for the confrontation.

Amy smiled, showing her perfect teeth. "Nice trick, getting the invisible girl to do your dirty work, but you forgot one thing. This seal only confines hostile magic and some demons. I can just step out of - Aargh!"

Xander smiled. The moment Amy had tried to step out of the diagram a wall of blue flame had appeared in front of her, singeing her foot.

Amy hopped backwards, holding her injured foot, and glared indignantly at Giles.

"I'm human!" Amy screamed. "This shouldn't work. You're cheating."

Giles looked surprised. "You didn't know?" he said scornfully. "You removed Xander's soul, made him into your puppet, and you didn't expect consequences? You broke every ethic of magic ever written, laws older than the slayer, and you thought you wouldn't have to pay? Body-theft is bad enough, but at least Amy still has her free will. What you did to Xander was worse, an offence against all that is holy. By that act you defiled your own soul. You are unclean, vulnerable to the seal of Solomon, and other measures."

Amy looked shocked, but quickly recovered her composure. "OK, watcher, so I'm just a self-taught small town girl, not some know-it-all with a really big magic library, but there is one, um, no," Amy paused and counted on her fingers. "Three things I'm certain of; you won't kill this body, you can't reverse the spell without reading my spellbook, and you can't leave this room unless I undo my Hermetic seal. Then Amy smiled. "Either we spend the next few days starving to death, or you let me go and I'll promise not to kill you. Deal?"

Giles shook his head. "No. You're right on every point, but we planned for this."

That was news to Xander. Giles had explained how they were going to get Amy her body back, but he hadn't said anything about being magically locked in the room afterwards.

"We don't have to reverse your spell," Giles explained. "We can just exorcise your unclean soul."

"Never," Amy replied sharply. "You're no witch. You may know more, but exorcism is a battle of wills. You don't have the strength to face me, mind to mind."

"True," Giles conceded. "But I know a man who can, Xander."

"He is mine," Amy scoffed. "And he'll -"

Xander swallowed nervously and stood up, interrupting Amy.

"No," Xander said firmly, careful not to look directly at Amy.

Leaning nonchalantly against the door, Buffy smiled encouragingly at Xander. Willow looked tense, but Cordelia looked relaxed and slightly bored, as if she'd been confronting witches, and worse, every week for a year.

Giles walked behind the teacher's desk and began pulling things out of his bag. He tossed the camera to Buffy, then lit the red candle and passed it to Xander.

"We easily broke your spell," Giles said.

Xander smiled slightly as Amy shuffled her dainty feet. Giles had said he would try to keep Amy unbalanced with shock revelations, to weaken her resistance. It seemed to be working.

"But you still owe Xander an enormous karmic debt," Giles continued. "That gives him the authority to command you, once. Your greater strength will be useless in the face of his moral authority."

Giles passed Xander a notepad and quietly said. "Just read the words, then blow out the candle. Remember, for this all you need are pure intentions. The words are just to give your will focus, so put your heart into it. You are her judge, passing sentence. Look at her, resist her allure, and sound confident. We're here to back you up. You can do it. Um, are you ready?"

Xander stepped forwards and stared confidently at Amy's left ear. It was pretty, but not as cute as her nose, so it wouldn't distract him from his speech. Amy tried to turn and face him, but Xander kept moving, avoiding her gaze.

Xander began reading. "You are an abomination in the eyes of the holy; an offence to all that men hold sacred. You have defiled me, heart, mind, and soul, but I offer forgiveness."

Xander hesitated. Did Giles really mean that? Some things could never be forgiven.

Amy hurried to fill the silence. "See. Giles is weak. He is bound to lose. Forget about him and remember last night. Imagine what fun it will be when Buffy is mine too."

Xander shook himself free of Amy's beguiling tones, horrified by the thought of Buffy subject to Amy's whims.

"Surrender your stolen flesh of your own free will," he read, "and be forgiven, or stay and suffer justice. Which shall it be?"

Amy laughed. "I'm not going anywhere. You need me. I've seen the new future, and I have a plan."

"And we should trust you why?" Cordelia interrupted scornfully. "Hurry up, Xander. Don't let her get to you."

Feeling grateful for Cordelia's support, Xander looked back at the notepad, trying to find his place. "You owe me a debt beyond all price, restitution for the damage done. By that debt I command you. Let justice be done. Go now, or be forever cursed. Anata, um anna-"

Xander stumbled over the unfamiliar words.

Amy began to croon, her voice lyrical. "You are the leaf. I am the tree."

"There is no magic in her words now, only memories," Giles said firmly. "Ignore her."

"Anathema you shall be," Xander read. "Go now or no roof shall shelter you, no hand feed you, no man know you. Your name shall be forgotten; your deeds stricken from the memory of man. On rotten meat and foul water you shall dine, and the light of day shall be denied you."

Amy abruptly jerked her head round, catching Xander's gaze.

"You are the pebble. I am the mountain," Amy sang, her voice as beautiful as the sunset.

Amy licked her lips with a suggestive leer, and Xander's mouth went dry. She was so attractive. Did they really have to hurt her?

"Xander," Willow interrupted, looking worried.

Xander glanced at Willow and frowned. He'd let Amy get to him again. He had to resist, but it was so hard.

Xander began reading again, hoping the words would start to work soon. "Go now, or the gates of magic shall be closed to you, and the tools of men serve you not. The comb in your hair, the fork in your hand, the road beneath your feet; all the works of human hand shall spurn your touch. Naked you shall wander the world, like a loathsome beast, and in the wild places you shall sleep, forever alone."

Xander couldn't help but wonder who wrote these curses; probably lonely old men who spent all their time inside dry books. If someone as beautiful as Amy was cursed like that, she would never be alone. Amy had done wrong, but could he really put her through that?

"You are a raindrop," Amy began.

"But you are a grain of salt," Willow sang, interrupting Amy. "Um, did that work?"

"Ego much?" Cordelia added. "I wouldn't compare myself to a mountain if I had your hips."

Amy whirled to face Cordelia.

While the two girls bickered, Xander quickly thought. He was reading from a list of traditional curses, all of which the witch would suffer if she didn't hurry up and get out of her daughter's body. There were dozens of paragraphs left, with the nastiest curses at the end, but so far the witch didn't seem worried. Xander could skip ahead, but Giles had said the worst curses should be saved for a last resort, or there would be side effects.

The thing was, he had to put his heart into the curses, but they just weren't his style. He had to find better words. Xander summoned all his fury at what the witch had done to him and, his voice contemptuous, named her worst fear.

"Catherine Madison," he said. "You will never cheerlead again. Go to hell, witch."

The witch span back to face Xander, looking terrified.

Xander blew out the candle.

The witch threw her head back and screamed.

Green mist oozed out of her eyes and mouth.

Amy fell to the floor, unconscious. Her left hand shimmered and vanished.

The green mist floated up towards the ceiling, bobbed around uncertainly, then hurtled back towards Amy.

"Say cheese," Buffy raised the camera, pointed it at the mist, and clicked.

An inch from Amy's head, the mist stopped, struggled briefly, and was sucked into the camera.

"So cameras really can steal your soul," Willow said, looking interested.

"Only naked souls," Giles corrected. "Most souls are wrapped in flesh, or other protections."

Giles bent down and quickly drew a large chalk circle round Amy, mumbling under his breath.

Cordelia clapped Xander on the shoulder. "That was brave, but couldn't you have been faster?"

Xander smiled. "It's your turn now Cordy. Think you'll manage?"

Cordelia smiled back. "Of course," she said, a slight tremor in her voice. "Ready, Willow?"

Giles took some herbs out of his bag and began mixing them in a beaker.

Buffy put the camera down and turned the door handle. It immediately began to glow bright red. She quickly pulled her hand away, and blew on her fingers. "Um, Giles, how will we get out of here with this seal thing?"

Giles looked up. "Oh, that's not a problem. If the caster leaves the room the seal is broken, so all we have to do is throw the camera through the window. First though, we have to get Amy's soul back in her body, before something else claims it."

Cordelia pulled a rope out of Giles's bag while Willow looked at a compass. They quickly took up their positions, standing opposite each other on the north side of the circle, with the rope held taut between them.

Giles checked Amy's birthdate, written on a scrap of paper, then added a final pinch of herbs to his potion and put it over a lit Bunsen burner. The potion glowed a dull orange and gave off a pleasant smell; halfway between bacon and newly mown grass.

"Are you both ready?" Giles asked.

Both girls nodded. Willow looked nervous, but also eager.

"Remember," Giles said, "don't let anything in the circle until you are sure it's the real Amy. I'd rather not do another exorcism so soon."

Giles began chanting, summoning Amy's soul. His tone was commanding, but Xander couldn't understand a word.

The air at the north of the circle began to glow. At first it was just a blur, but then a multitude of faces snapped into focus, most of them seemingly human. One of them even looked like Cordelia. The faces moved forward, towards the circle, but Willow and Cordelia barred their way, keeping them out.

"What!" Buffy exclaimed.

Xander turned around. Buffy was looking at the camera that held the witch's soul, a camera that was melting. As Xander watched, the camera seeped through Buffy's hands. Xander looked hopefully at Giles, but he just stared amazed at the camera as it oozed through the floor, then shrugged helplessly without ever interrupting his chanting.

Willow and Cordelia looked at each other, then nodded and lifted the rope. A single spirit entered the circle.

Amy's eyes opened. "What? Where am I? That's my real voice!"

Amy sat upright and looked down at her hand. "I'm back in my real body!"

Giles smiled briefly then spoke, his voice sombre. "We still have a significant problem."

Marcie looked annoyed. "But you said the camera would hold her. You drew runes on it, and everything."

"Not runes; cuneiform, an Akkadian prayer but it should have worked. The hellmouth must have given her the strength to escape. She will be heading for her original body, and when she reaches it she will come for us."

"But what if her body is already possessed?" Willow asked. "You said we would need to exorcise it too."

"It is her rightful body," Giles said, "and she is a witch. Nothing can keep her out of that body, not even death. We can pray she decides to hide, but if she doesn't she could be here in fifteen minutes, faster if she is reckless with her magic."

"Um, Amy. What happened to your hand?" Cordelia said, looking puzzled. "That definitely isn't right."

"My mother cut it off," Amy said bitterly, "just because she had some nightmares. She went and swapped it for these horrible giant green wolves."

Cordelia looked understandably upset, and slightly guilty. Why? Cordelia had never been nasty enough to give a witch nightmares.

"But we could see two hands," Cordelia said slowly, her voice thoughtful. "Was she using some sort of illusion?"

Amy nodded. "But why does-"

Cordelia interrupted. "Then you could do the same thing. It might take a few days to learn the trick, but people would soon forget you had ever had only one hand, right, Giles?" Cordelia smiled, clearly pleased with her idea, then frowned.

Giles nodded. "People are good at denial, but that doesn't matter right now. There's a powerful witch out there," Giles gestured at the window, "who could be heading for us right now, and we are completely defenceless."

"Way to inspire the troops," Xander said sarcastically. Couldn't Giles be more positive?

"Marcie's safe though," Willow said, looking nervous. "Can't you just, um, reverse the polarity of that spell we did, and make us all invisible."

Giles shook his head. "This is magic, not engineering. Invisibility would take weeks of research to achieve, if it's even possible."

"Marcie?" Amy said. "That's the invisible girl, right? Is she here?" Amy started looking round the room.

"Didn't you hear her?" Buffy asked.

Giles sighed. "I explained that. Can we focus on the witch?"

Willow glanced at the window, then gasped. "I think she's being reckless."

Xander quickly looked outside. A small cloud of green fog had appeared, no more than twenty feet away. It started to glow, filling the classroom with a sickly green light. There were sparks crackling across its surface and it seemed to be growing.

"Amazing!" Giles said. "I think she's teleporting, very foolish. One slip and she'll be jam."

A flurry of small lightning bolts erupted out of the cloud, going in all directions. One shattered the windows and set the teacher's desk on fire.

Six demon wolves jumped out of the cloud. Three of them sailed straight through the window, one carrying the witch on its back.

The others missed, hitting the outside wall with loud thumps.

"Do you want to know how much exorcism hurts?" the witch asked calmly, then giggled. "When my lovely little pets eat you alive, then you will suffer only the smallest fraction of my —"

Buffy jumped onto a desk, then leaped towards the witch, interrupting her speech and knocking her off her wolf.

Cordelia yanked Xander into the closet where Dr Gregory kept the lab coats, then tried to close the door.

"You can't do anything out there," she said, her mouth near Xander's ear. "All we can do is hide while Buffy fights. She's bound to win."

Xander didn't like the idea of hiding, and the closet was a poor choice anyway. It was too small. Cordelia hadn't been able to close the door completely, and he was uncomfortably aware of how closely she was pressed up against him. It was a nice feeling, not like anything he'd ever done before, but being so close to Cordelia just felt wrong, even if she didn't seem to mind.

Xander peered out of the closet, trying to ignore Cordelia. Amy and Willow were crouched in a corner behind Giles, who was building a barricade out of the desks. Marcie was in the middle of the room, dodging the wolves and the witch, who was staggering around with Buffy on her back. Buffy had one hand over the witch's mouth, stopping her from doing any magic, and kept punching her with the other hand, but the witch was managing to stay upright. She had to be using magic; there was no way a normal human could take that kind of punishment. The green sparks crackling over her skin were a big clue too.

One of the wolves tried to paw open the closet door but Xander stamped hard on its foot. It pulled back and growled.

Another of the wolves sank its teeth into Buffy's leg, pulled her off the witch's back, and hurled her against the wall.

"Why doesn't anyone come in?" Xander asked. "Surely they can hear the fighting."

"They don't want to," Cordelia said impatiently. "They're in denial, not idiots. Nobody will show up until the fighting's over."

As a wolf pinned Buffy against the wall, the witch began chanting.

Buffy plunged both hands inside the wolf, her arms sinking deep into the fog, and twisted, breaking its neck.

As the skull dropped to the ground Buffy caught it and hurled it at the witch, interrupting her spell.

Large gashes appeared in the closet door as a wolf clawed at it.

"Great hiding place you picked," Xander said, wondering what he could do now.

The wolf yelped as a bottle broke on its nose.

Xander leaned out of the closet, trying to see who had thrown the bottle.

Cordelia pulled him back in. "Don't," she snapped, sounding worried, then asked, "What's going on?"

"Marcie's throwing the chemical supplies at it," Xander explained.

The wolf wandered off, looking for the bottle-thrower.

The witch pointed at Buffy and, with a look of intense effort, levitated her. Smiling triumphantly, the witch flicked her finger, hurling Buffy out of the window.

"No!" Xander gasped.

"Don't worry," Cordelia said confidently. "She's the slayer. She can walk away from a fall like that."

"Giles," the witch said as she turned to face him. "You dared used magic against me, the most powerful witch in town. You never had a chance."

The witch began ripping apart Giles's barricade with her levitation trick.

Amy looked at her mother pleadingly. "Do you have to kill us now? You want sacrifices. Why not use us?"

"Playing for time?" the witch said with a smile, then paused. Looking thoughtful the witch continued, "I could give you ten years to escape, and you still wouldn't stand a chance. I'll do it your way."

Xander smiled, confident that while the witch was gloating Buffy would burst in and kill her.

Her voice trembling, Marcie asked, "There's no chance you'll cure me, is there?"

The witch glanced around the room. "Marcie? You still here? You drew the seal that trapped me. I would never cure you. Never."

Marcie looked terrified, but then she smiled and said, "But you can't magic what you can't see."

Marcie began circling the witch, spiralling in on her.

"Doesn't matter," the witch said. "I can see chalk. The moment it moves …"

The witch pointed at the smouldering remnants of the teacher's desk and made a squeezing gesture. The desk crumpled, collapsing into a pile of ash and splinters.

Marcie ducked under one of the remaining demon wolves and picked up a shard of glass.

"No," Giles shouted. "Run."

"No," Marcie said firmly as she moved behind the witch. "I want to be cured and I won't let a cheerleader stop me, even if I have to kill her."

"Lords of the mist, upon you I now call. Let those who threaten me die, one and all," the witch chanted, then held her left hand out, palm upward. A pillar of green mist erupted from that hand, forming a cloud near the ceiling.

Marcie paused, looking as surprised as Xander felt.

Beams of green light stabbed silently down from the green cloud, blindly searching for Marcie.

Marcie winced as a near miss made the floor smoulder, then smiled grimly and leaped forwards. She wrapped one arm around the witch's neck, yanking her backwards, then slashed at her face with the glass shard, drawing blood.

"No!" the witch screamed, looking terrified, then the light engulfed them both.

Marcie evaporated, before she could even blink. The witch screamed and fell backwards as flames engulfed her.

Xander looked away. The witch deserved to die, but not like that.

The two demon wolves looked at each other, then jumped back out of the window.

"It's over," Giles said softly.

It should have been a time for cheering but Xander couldn't, not when he had just seen Marcie die.

Amy walked over to her mother's corpse, looking sad. "I'll miss her; not the diets or the arguments, or the magic, her. She cared for me, in a really sick twisted way." Amy hesitated. "Are you sure she's completely dead, Mr Giles? I don't want her ghost nagging me."

Giles smiled. "Quite sure. That's why witches were burned at the stake. It stops them coming back."

"Um, Giles," Willow said tentatively. "How are going to explain this?"

Xander looked round the room noting the damage; the broken windows; the jumbled piles of desks, the smouldering patches in the floor, and the unrecognisable corpse. It would take some explaining.

"Simple," Cordelia said, smiling.

* * *

"So you said Marcie broke into the science lab to smoke, and accidentally blew herself up?" Buffy asked, looking sceptical. "Didn't they wonder who she was?"

Xander looked at Buffy and smiled, still glad she hadn't been seriously hurt. She had fractured both ankles in the fall, but they had healed within a day.

"Death breaks most curses," Giles explained. "They remembered her, with a little prompting."

"At least she got what she wanted," Cordelia added, "but she shouldn't have died. If only I'd waited, um, wasted more time, not found her so fast, she would still be alive."

"Don't blame yourself," Buffy said hurriedly. "It wasn't your fault."

Xander nodded. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"We couldn't win without Marcie," Willow said reassuringly, making Cordelia smile. "Everything worked out very neatly, but not because you planned it that way. Nobody could have planned what happened, not unless they knew the future, which no one does, now all the old prophecies are destroyed, so you couldn't and didn't; not that you would even if you could."

"You really should drink less coffee," Buffy said, smiling, while Giles looked thoughtful.

"Don't worry, Cordy," Xander said smiling. "Next time we'll do better."

After all, they couldn't do much worse. They'd almost died. Still, with practice they'd get better, and it looked like they'd be getting plenty of practice. Soon Xander would be killing monsters in his sleep, and dating Buffy. Then his life would be almost perfect.


	7. Cordelia's Ghost: The Haunting

Cordelia's Ghost 

Cordelia leaned backwards, ignoring the teacher. She'd already sat through the class once, before she had made her wish. Being forced to go through it again was one of the less desirable complications of her wish, but there was no way around it. At least she didn't have to actually listen to what he was saying, giving her more time to think about her problems. Her wish had worked, by some fluke of the hellmouth, letting her relive the last eighteen months, without making any mistakes, but something didn't feel right. 

Things were happening that didn't quite fit her memories. At first she'd told herself her memories were at fault, but that excuse didn't hold up. She had seen Blaine's head bitten off by that giant bug teacher, but she knew he had been in class the week before she made the wish. Of course, in Sunnydale being dead was no bar to an active lifestyle, but why would a zombie want to go to school? She could fudge her memories of the original history to fit the things she had seen after the wish, but she couldn't fudge them that much. It had to be the world that was at fault, not her memories. But why?

There were some things she had changed herself, none of which had worked out as well as she had hoped. She hadn't been able to save Jesse, Marcie had got herself killed, and they hadn't been fast enough to save Blaine. Worst of all, that giant bug had broken her left arm. She'd had to wear a cast for a week, which had taken a lot of explaining away. Still, at least she had some idea why those things had happened differently.

Some of the changes were probably inadvertent consequences of her actions, like that butterfly thing the history teacher had gone on about once. Aura was dating Mitch now, but that was only because Cordelia hadn't been interested. He'd looked nice two years ago, but her tastes were more mature now and he'd only get in the way. It was hard enough to spend enough time to give Buffy and her friends all the help they needed without Harmony noticing how much time she was spending with them; trying to keep Mitch happy too would have been a complete nightmare.

The inadvertent changes were an annoying complication, but she could have coped with those. What really worried Cordelia was the other changes.

The class started giggling, disturbing Cordelia's concentration. She looked up, and frowned.

"Cordelia is a thief," the teacher was writing on the blackboard. "Cordelia is a thief."

He seemed completely unaware of what he was doing, still droning on about math the way he always had, but he had half-filled the blackboard with that ridiculous accusation. It was just like what those ghosts had done, but it was the wrong time of year. 

The teacher finished his lecture and turned to face the class, his smile quickly turning to a frown when he finally noticed the laughter. 

"Look at the blackboard." Cordelia said firmly, before he could demand an explanation.

"Oh, my God!" The teacher began frantically wiping the blackboard clean while stammering incoherent apologies.

Cordelia smiled, briefly amused, then started thinking. She'd dealt with ghosts before. With her expert guidance Giles would banish the ghost before it could create any more trouble. The ghost wouldn't be a serious problem, but it was still worrying. She hadn't ordered extra ghosts, so where had it come from?

It could just be some accidental result of the changes she had made, like Aura dating Mitch, but if it was just random luck why did it never work in their favour? People had died because of Cordelia's bad luck, people who should have lived, but the only people whose lives had been saved owed their lives to Cordelia's hard work.

Cordelia had spent too long on the Hellmouth to believe in simple bad luck. Something was definitely wrong, but was it just the touch of the Hellmouth, or could it be something more serious?

  


****

  


Cordelia frowned as she slipped into the library. It looked like Giles and Buffy were already researching something. She'd just have to persuade them to deal with the ghosts first. It wasn't as if anything important was due to happen soon. 

"Yuck, check these guys out. Hi, Cordy." Buffy said, passing Giles an open book.

"We've got ghosts." Cordelia said calmly as she sat down at the table. "What's this?"

Buffy picked the ring up. "A vamp dropped it last night. Giles thinks it's something special." 

Then Buffy blinked. "Ghosts?"

Xander stepped into the library. "Not that I saw. Our math teacher just did this freaky channelling thing."

Xander still seemed to be expecting traditional ghosts.

"What happened?" Giles asked eagerly.

While Xander answered Giles's question Cordelia sat back and tried to work out who the ghost could be. Either her memory was worse than she wanted to believe possible or they were someone who had died recently, someone who hadn't died in the original history. That still left at least eight names, just counting the ones she was sure of, but there was another clue. The ghost had been angry at Cordelia, which really narrowed down the list of suspects.

"Ooh!" Buffy said, standing up. "Owen! Hi."

Cordelia smiled, amused, as Buffy brushed her hair nervously. She was being so obvious but Owen seemed oblivious, so far. Cordelia knew that wouldn't last. She'd wanted to date Owen herself, the first time around, but he'd picked Buffy instead, which showed what poor taste he had. Something had gone wrong though. She'd never seen the two of them together after that first date. Buffy had switched her affections to Angel, making him lose his soul. That was something that needed changing, and this would be a good time to do it.

"What do you want?" Giles asked while Xander glowered at Owen, clearly jealous.

"A book?" Owen replied, looking confused.

He actually wanted to borrow a book? Now that was weird. She'd seen more vampires in the library than students. Cordelia glanced curiously at Owen, then mentally shrugged. It didn't matter if Owen was odd. At least he was human, and Buffy obviously liked him. Yes, they'd definitely make a great couple. 

If she could just work out why they'd split up she could keep Buffy and Owen together. It had been the night she first saw Angel, which had made it a night worth remembering, but she hadn't been paying much attention to Buffy. Cordelia struggled to remember what exactly had happened. Angel had told Buffy something, then Xander and Willow had turned up, acting weird, and the gang had all left the Bronze, including Owen.

Cordelia smiled again. There must have been something hellmouthy going on or Angel wouldn't have been there. Owen must have seen too much and been scared off. All Cordelia would have to do would be to give Owen some dating advice, so Buffy wouldn't want to let him get away so easily, and to make sure he didn't see too much.

"Poetry." Giles said, pointing Owen in the right direction. Buffy followed him up the stairs, trying much too hard.

Giles glanced at the book Buffy had passed him. His faced twitched in quickly hidden surprise, then he sat down and began reading. 

"I can read poetry." Xander muttered, looking hurt.

Cordelia sighed. Why did Xander insist on chasing Buffy? It wasn't as if she encouraged him. There were two other girls who wanted him, or rather, Cordelia thought, correcting herself, there had been two other girls, in the future, but now there was only the one. She was prepared to pretend to be interested, so it would be easier to manipulate him and get her revenge, but she had to remember she no longer loved him. It would be easy enough to confuse pretence and reality, to get carried away by Xander's undeniable charms but that would wreck her plans for revenge.

Cordelia backtracked, picking up her thoughts where she had interrupted herself. As far as Xander knew, there were two girls interested in him. They might not be as obvious about it as Buffy, who might as well put an ad in the paper, but Xander must have noticed. So why did he insist on pining over what he could never win, while ignoring the prize at his feet? If she knew that, knew how he thought, her revenge would be so much easier. Of course, if she had known him that well Willow wouldn't have been able to steal him.

"I love books." Buffy said unconvincingly as she came back down the stairs. "I mean, I really love books."

Owen looked at Giles, still studying the book Buffy had passed him.

"What's that?" he asked, clearly wondering why the librarian was sitting next to students, "A book Mr Giles was showing you?"

"Not that one." Buffy said hastily, standing so Owen couldn't see the title.

"No one reads those books." Xander added.

Giles plucked Owen's book from his hands and walked over to the checkout desk. "Oh, Emily Dickinson."

Cordelia watched, amused, as Buffy continued her pathetic attempts at flirting until Owen left the library. Those two both needed urgent help if they were going to get anywhere. Buffy might be good with ugly monsters but, when it came to dating, Cordelia was the slayer.

"You were right, Buffy." Giles said. "That ring is worn by members of the Order of Aurelius, an old and venerated sect. If they are here it's for a good reason."

That was something she could secretly warn Angel about, keeping up her reputation. The more accurate the warnings she slipped him, the more he would trust them, making it easier for her to manipulate him.

Buffy ignored Giles's words, staring wistfully at the door. "That was Owen! Do you have any more copies of Emily Dickinson? I need one."

Giles glared at Buffy. "While the mere fact of you wanting to check out a book would be grounds for a national holiday, I think we should focus on the problems at hand."

Xander nodded, fiddling with the ring Giles had left on the table. "Who are these Aurelius guys?"

"And the ghost. Don't forget the ghost." Cordelia added. The Aurelius thing was probably just another bit of the original history she hadn't been told about, the reason why Buffy would leave the Bronze, which meant it wasn't a problem. Buffy would deal with it, the way she originally had. 

The ghost was much more worrying, a change in history she hadn't asked for and didn't want. She'd grown used to knowing almost everything in advance, which made everything easier, but this ghost was a complete unknown. She didn't know what it wanted, she didn't know what it could do, and she couldn't be sure of victory, since Buffy hadn't even fought it the first time round. 

"Right," Buffy said. "I'm sorry. You're right. Vampires and ghosts."

Buffy paused, looking worried. "Oh, does this outfit make me look fat?"

"Nothing could make you look fat." Xander said, smiling.

"I've seen worse," Cordelia said, making Buffy frown, then hastily added "but if you take my fashion advice you will be irresistible."

Giles started to speak, but Cordelia overrode him. "This isn't the time though. Vampires first, fashion later."

Cordelia knew that had to be the strangest thing she'd ever said but she needed Buffy to get her priorities right. If Buffy let the monsters win because she was too busy thinking about boys then fashion would be dead.

Buffy nodded agreement, but her expression still seemed unfocused.

Giles sighed. "Go to your next class. I need to check my books; see why the order might be in town."

  


****

  


That lunchtime Cordelia sat in the canteen, half-listening to Harmony talking about her last shopping trip. Odd to think there had once been a time when she would have enjoyed hearing Harmony describe every last outfit she had tried on, but now she was beginning to wonder if she had ever really enjoyed it at all. Still, being popular was worth any amount of boredom.

"Are you listening, or are you watching those losers again?" Harmony snapped.

Cordelia glared back. Who did Harmony think she was, taking that tone?

"Gold-and-green striped gloves, right?"

Harmony started to say no, but Cordelia interrupted, her tone dismissive.

"You know I don't have your memory for trivial details, I mean, remembering every last thing you bought, in order. The geeks think they're good, memorising all those books, but you're even better."

Harmony did not look flattered by the comparison.

Ignoring Harmony's spluttered response, Cordelia turned to watch Buffy. The nervous way she was acting was so much more entertaining than Harmony could ever hope to be, a big contrast to the confident Buffy Cordelia was used to seeing slaying monsters.

After what looked like a lot of encouragement from Willow, Buffy went over to Owen's table, much to Xander's obvious disgust. It was obvious both Owen and Buffy wanted to date each other but neither of them seemed able to find the words.

After a couple of minutes Cordelia stood up. She needed to know what Giles had found out about her ghost, and knowing what the Order of Aurelius were planning would be useful too.

"Going to another rehearsal with those losers?" Harmony asked sourly.

Cordelia nodded as she began walking. It wasn't much of an excuse but she hadn't expected to need one. People ignored the weird stuff, and the people involved in it. There were exceptions, but mostly people never asked awkward questions. In the original history Harmony had noticed Cordelia's affair with Xander, but she had never asked how they got together or why Cordelia spent so long in the library. Even after that Homecoming fiasco no one had asked why Cordelia had been so dishevelled, despite the shock in their eyes.

Giles had explained it once, something about people preferring ignorance. Most people didn't ask questions because they feared the answers. They might forget the weirdness and ignore all the evidence but nothing could be completely forgotten. In their dreams they remembered.

They avoided dangerous places, unless their hormones overrode their head. They never asked awkward questions and they certainly never asked Cordelia what she was doing with the Scooby gang, or followed her to the library.

Cordelia had never considered Harmony bright, but it had been three weeks. By now she should have realised there were times Cordelia was not safe to be around, the way she had in the original history. Well, if Harmony didn't learn, Cordelia would just have to teach her. She didn't want Harmony following her at the wrong time and getting herself hurt, but she'd have to think of a way to discourage Harmony without risking her popularity.

At the library doors Cordelia turned to face Harmony. At least the rest of her friends had been too sensible to follow her.

"Going to play with your new loser friends?" Harmony sneered. "What's happened to your standards? You shouldn't even be talking to those weirdos."

Cordelia had never liked being ordered around, and she certainly didn't like being addressed in that tone of voice. OK, she understood why Harmony would be upset now that she no longer had the privilege of spending most of her waking hours in Cordelia's company but that was no excuse. Harmony's incessant sniping was getting annoying and, worse, she was trying to control Cordelia's behaviour.

Cordelia remembered how, last Valentine's Day, she'd had to explain to Harmony that she was a natural leader, not a sheep, and didn't have to follow other people's standards. It looked like she would have to explain the same thing again, only earlier.

"Harmony," Cordelia began in deceptively sweet tones, "do I ever hang with losers?"

"No, but-"

"Then Buffy and her friends can't be losers." Cordelia said firmly.

"Not losers?" Harmony said disbelievingly. "Are you blind?"

"I see more than you do." Cordelia replied smiling. Harmony was as blind as the rest of Sunnydale. "You call Buffy a loser, but you don't even know the rules. Buffy is a winner. We are all winners."

Cordelia paused, thinking about what she could safely say.

Harmony looked defiantly at Cordelia. "Winners? Willow and Xander are much too ugly to make good actors."

Cordelia laughed dismissively. Xander hid a great body under his horrible clothes and if Willow dressed better she would look almost as attractive as Cordelia herself, attractive enough to get almost any boy she wanted. Willow certainly hadn't had any trouble seducing Xander, which wasn't something Cordelia wanted to think about. She pulled her thoughts back to the present and glared at Harmony.

Harmony stepped backwards.

"This is my school," Cordelia said. "I decide who the losers are. You're just a sheep, copying what's cool, but not me. If I'm doing it, it has to be cool. I do what I want to do, and I hang with whoever I want to, whenever I want to, however odd they are. Whine all you like but I'm not going to change, so shut up and stay away from my library."

Cordelia stopped talking, worried she might have got carried away. She didn't want to alienate Harmony, just remind her who she was talking back to. Still, Harmony knew she'd be nowhere without Cordelia, so it would be easy enough to mollify her later.

Cordelia smiled as Harmony stammered her apologies then scurried away down the corridor. Harmony certainly wouldn't be asking any more awkward questions.

"Your library?"

Recognising Buffy's voice Cordelia turned around to see all three of them looking at her, clearly amused.

"She was rude." Cordelia explained as she pushed open the library doors. "Giles, what've you found out about my ghost?"

"You've got a ghost?" Willow gasped. "But you aren't dead."

"Our teacher did this freaky channelling thing," Xander explained. "Cordy thinks it's a ghost."

Willow looked briefly thoughtful then asked "Whose ghost is it then?"

Giles smiled. "We don't have sufficient information to decide, but that can wait. The ghost isn't important, the Order of Aurelius is -"

Cordelia stopped listening to Giles, her attention gripped by the books behind him. The moment he'd said the ghost wasn't important the books had started vibrating. Now they were glowing a dull blood red and floating just above the shelves.

"Um Giles, behind you." Willow said, interrupting apologetically.

As Giles turned to look three of the books leapt of their shelf and hurtled towards Giles, clipping him on the ear.

"Everyone down!" Buffy yelled as more books floated away from their shelves and began zooming around the room.

Cordelia dived forwards, sliding quickly across the floor and underneath the main table.

From behind the counter Xander groaned. "So who's been a bad librarian? What have you done to these poor books? Miscatalogued them?"

Cordelia couldn't see Giles but he sounded affronted. "No! This is a poltergeist."

"A what? How do I kill it?" Buffy asked, showing her inexperience.

"A ghost, and you can't kill it." Giles replied. "But it can't keep up this level of activity for long without depleting its spiritual reserves."

"You mean we've got to wait for it to get tired?" Cordelia asked, clarifying Giles's answer.

"Thief," an hideous voice screeched.

Cordelia peeked out from under the table, trying to see what was talking. There had to be thousands of books floating in mid-air. Moving faster than the eye could follow they circled the main table, the air around them glowing a dull blood red. Giles had retreated into the safety of his office, Xander and Willow were both crouched behind the counter and Buffy was leaning against the wall, fending the books off with her hands, but there was no sign of any monster.

"Thief. Thief," the voice screeched again, and the light flickered in time with its words. It had to be the ghost talking.

"Cordelia is a thief," the voice screeched, and the light winked out. There was a moment of silence, then all the books fell to the floor.

Cordelia crawled out from underneath the table and calmly dusted herself down.

"Giles, next time don't insult the ghost." Cordelia said sharply then hesitated. That ghost had attacked twice in three hours, and it definitely didn't like her. If it made a fuss like that in the Bronze it wouldn't help her reputation.

"Giles?" Cordelia asked in gentler tones. "I don't think that ghost likes me. Is there anything you can do about it?"

Cordelia paused, thinking about the last time she had faced a ghost. Willow had made some special charm. "A scapula I can wear, but not the stinky kind."

Giles looked thoughtfully at Cordelia and smiled. "I may be able to prepare some suitable protection for all of us, but we need to identify the ghost. Are there any dead people who don't like you?"

Xander smiled but kept silent, refusing to make the obvious joke. He'd been a lot nicer about that ever since he almost killed her. He'd been a lot nicer to her about everything since then, calling her Cordy and hardly ever insulting her. Cordelia would have enjoyed his improved attitude, if she had thought he really meant it, but it was clear he was just trying to make up for almost killing her. Xander probably meant well but Cordelia would have preferred honesty. 

"Marcie," Willow suggested. "And maybe Amber."

Cordelia nodded. They had both been spiteful people who'd enjoy embarrassing her.

"Both violent deaths." Giles replied, "so they would make good suspects. It should take several hours for our ghost to recover the energy for another manifestation, more than enough time to research a protective charm, but first we have more urgent business. I fear the Master is about to try and fulfil a violent and disturbing prophecy."

"The order of Aurelius?" Buffy guessed.

Giles nodded. "You were spot on about the connection. I've looked at the writings of Aurelius himself and he prophesied that the brethren of his order would bring the anointed one to the Master."

Cordelia smiled. She'd seen the anointed one once, a little child who looked completely harmless. Still, if the Master wanted him there had to be something special about the anointed.

"Um, Giles?" Willow said tentatively. "Didn't you say all the old prophecies were invalid? And this Aurelius must be old news 'cause he has this whole order, which he couldn't have got in three weeks."

Giles smiled. "Events do not happen because they are prophesied; they are prophesied because they will happen. There has to be a reason, outside prophecy, why those events will occur. Even though the prophecy has been invalidated the Master can still try and make it happen. His chances of success are much lower now, but they are not zero."

Cordelia frowned slightly, thinking about what Giles had just said. The old prophecies were wrong because Cordelia was changing things, but she hadn't done anything to stop the anointed yet. If Giles hadn't told her about the prophecy she wouldn't have known to stop it so it would have come true but now, because Giles had told her it would have happened, it wouldn't.

Cordelia paused, trying to untangle her thoughts. It wouldn't happen because it would have? That was the kind of twisted logic only Giles could understand.

Cordelia mentally shrugged, dismissing the issue. Xander was speaking.

"-Fun. Got any more good news?" he was saying. "Who's this anointed guy?"

"I don't know exactly, a warrior, but it says he will rise from the ashes of the five on the evening of the thousandth day after the advent of Septus."

He certainly hadn't looked like a warrior, but if the Master needed some brat's help Buffy would have to kill it first, which shouldn't be difficult. Cordelia would slip Angel a note describing the anointed one and he'd help Buffy kill it. Once that little nuisance was out of the way Giles would be able to deal with the much more worrying problem of the unexpected ghost.

Cordelia smiled, glad she had worked out exactly what was going on. This time there wouldn't be any unexpected complications.

  


********

  


It was almost dusk when Cordelia slipped the note under Angel's door, later than she would have liked. As Cordelia turned away from the door she quickly pulled a small cross out of her purse and wrapped her fingers tightly around it, ready for the long walk home. A cross couldn't offer much protection, but it was better than nothing. It would be better still if she didn't have to walk at all, but her driving test wasn't due for another two weeks.

Cordelia hadn't meant to be so late but it had been difficult to get away from Harmony. She had only meant to spend half an hour with her, after school, reassuring Harmony that they were still friends, but Harmony had kept her talking for hours. Much as Cordelia wished she could have just walked away, doing that repeatedly would have damaged her status. If she wasn't regularly seen with the other fashionable people everyone would start to think of her as just another member of Buffy's weird gang, and her popularity would plummet.

"Cordelia?"

Recognising Angel's voice, Cordelia turned around and sighed. Angel was standing in the shadows, a surprised look on his face and a piece of paper in his hand.

"Expecting someone else?" Cordelia said, trying to decide what she could tell Angel. He didn't need to know the truth but he wouldn't be easy to deceive. At least with Giles she'd been able to keep her story simple but Angel thought she was the messenger of a non-existent secret society. Angel would want more information, but there was no way she could actually answer those questions. Cordelia could twist the truth or even lie outright but either way, the moment something she said contradicted what he already knew, Angel would become suspicious.

Cordelia would have to play it cryptic, imply she knew more than she did and let Angel fill in the gaps, but if she made even one misstep Angel would suspect she was a fraud. She just had to hope Angel wouldn't be talking to Giles anytime soon.

"I wasn't expecting anyone." 

Angel hesitated, then added "We need to talk. Come inside."

"Into your lair?" Cordelia said, displaying her cross. Angel might be old enough that the sight of a cross didn't bother him much but anything she could do to unsettle him would make her deceit easier.

"You know?" Angel said, sounding surprised.

Cordelia nodded.

Angel said nothing more until they were both inside.

  


****

  


"How much do you know?" Angel asked once they had both sat down.

"I know about the curse, and the loophole." Cordelia said, trying to sound like Giles. She couldn't hope to fake the accent, not that it would help if she did, but she could try and fake his style and mannerisms. If she could just copy Giles's authoritative tones then she would sound like the voice of experience, making her imposture much more convincing.

"So you've read the messages?"

Cordelia struggled to keep her face blank. Why hadn't she thought of that? If she'd pretended that she was just a messenger Angel wouldn't have expected her to know anything. There would still have been a few awkward questions, such as why she was delivering anonymous messages and who was giving them to her, but that would still have been a better lie.

Cordelia mentally shrugged. It was too late to change tack now.

"Who wouldn't?" Cordelia replied. "I am hardly going to deliver anonymous messages to strange men without good reason."

"Does Giles know?"

"He mustn't," Cordelia said, trying to think of some reason why not.

Angel smiled. "So those rumours are true."

"Which rumours? There are so many in this business."

Angel looked thoughtfully at Cordelia. "Meddling in the affairs of watchers is dangerous. The slayer is theirs, and theirs alone. They'll go to any lengths to keep it that way."

Cordelia smiled. That was an excuse she could use, not that she believed it. She knew Giles. If someone else turned up, wanting to help the slayer, he'd check their credentials then let them help. Any rumours Angel had heard to the contrary were probably just vampires spinning tall stories. It wasn't as though sensible vampires spent much time around watchers.

"We do prefer to avoid their notice." Cordelia said. "I notice you haven't told Giles your secrets either."

Angel smiled. "Watchers don't like vampires."

"Even when they have souls." Cordelia said, nodding.

Angel looked interested. "How do you know about that? You're no gypsy."

Cordelia smiled enigmatically. "We have ways."

"And the loophole? You're sure about that?" Angel asked, leaning forwards.

"Yes." Cordelia replied firmly. "One moment of perfect happiness and the curse is broken, so don't be happy, ever."

"But how can you be certain?" Angel asked.

Cordelia could understand his reluctance to accept the news, but he had no choice. If he wasn't careful around Buffy then Angelus would escape. She had to force him to accept it.

"I've seen-" Cordelia began hotly, then caught herself. "Documents. Books and prophecies. I've seen dozens of them."

"Which ones?" Angel asked, then rattled off a list of titles. Cordelia recognised a few from the library, but there was no way she could pretend to have read them.

"Do I look like Giles?" Cordelia said, feigning scorn. Not wanting to give Angel a chance to ask more questions, Cordelia quickly continued "The curse was meant to make you suffer. If you're happy you aren't suffering, and the curse goes puff."

Cordelia wasn't completely certain that explanation was right, she hadn't really been listening when Giles explained the details, but it seemed to have convinced Angel.

"That sounds like gypsy logic. Why do I have to avoid Buffy?"

Cordelia stared at Angel, annoyed by how stubbornly he was clinging on to hope.

"Do I have to spell everything out? Give it up. You'll only bring Buffy heartache."

That wasn't completely true, but it was worth lying if it stopped Angel losing his soul.

Cordelia watched the last dregs of hope drain from Angel's face, wishing she hadn't had to tell him that, then frowned. She'd just done the right thing, saved dozens of lives, so why did she feel regret? It wasn't her that was making him suffer; it was the curse, just like the gypsies had wanted, so why did she feel responsible?

Angel looked down, staring at the floor. His voice melancholy, he said "I saw Buffy the day she was chosen. She was walking down the steps and-"

Angel paused, shaking slightly. Cordelia waited silently, hoping he'd continue. She'd often wondered about Buffy's early days but Buffy had never wanted to share. Besides, talking about it might help Angel.

"She looked so vulnerable I wanted to help her, to protect her. I ... I love her. I know she'll never love me but I had hopes. We could work together, side by side. Now you tell me I can't even have that."

Listening to the barely suppressed fury in Angel's last few words Cordelia shuddered and tried to think of something sympathetic to say, some way to calm him down.

Angel looked straight at her and quickly said. "I don't blame you. I owe you, and your organisation."

Cordelia smiled. At least Angel was mature enough not to blame the messenger, and him owing her a favour could be very useful.

"But I will find a way round the loophole."

Cordelia took one look at Angel's expression and decided not to argue. Angel deserved some hope 

"Until then I'll do it your way. I can't take the risk that you are wrong." Angel paused. "It is enough to be able to help Buffy. I don't have to watch her."

Cordelia hesitated, then decided she could offer Angel a little comfort. She had implicitly exaggerated the danger of the loophole just a little. If Angel realised he could safely watch Buffy he might falsely conclude that the loophole had been closed.

"You might be able to watch her from a distance," Cordelia conceded. "If it doesn't make you too happy, but if you get too close to her she'll fall for you."

Angel smiled. "She would?"

"She mustn't. It would make you too happy. Keep your distance. Let Buffy find a human boyfriend."

Slowly Angel nodded. "I will, for Buffy's sake. Why are you working for these people?"

Cordelia smiled at Angel's abrupt change of subject

"I learned the truth about Sunnydale. How could I refuse to help?" Cordelia asked rhetorically then, before Angel could ask for more details, changed the subject herself. "Do you know about the anointed?"

"I've read the prophecies of Aurelius. He was due to rise tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow? Giles said it was tonight. Buffy's out there now, waiting for him."

Angel looked surprised. "Doesn't Giles know? Three weeks ago the future changed."

"We know." Cordelia interrupted, then tried to remember Giles's explanation. "But prophecies don't make things happen, people do. The master can still try and raise the anointed, but he's lost his guarantee. He should fail, but he just might succeed."

Angel looked doubtful. "Whatever changed the future won't like him changing it back. It would be arrogant to defy such power."

Cordelia smiled, amused by Angel's misconception. She was the one who'd changed the future but she wasn't quite as powerful as Angel seemed to think.

"But the master has always been arrogant, and he still attempted the harvest." Angel added, looking thoughtful. "You may be right. Aurelius didn't say why the anointed will rise but the master has other sources. If there is some ritual that summons the anointed the master will try and perform it."

"And we will stop him." Cordelia said firmly, trying to remember if Giles had ever said anything useful about the anointed or vampire rituals.

"How?" Angel asked.

Spike had used some fancy ritual to cure Drusilla, but where had he got it from? It had been the week she had first kissed Xander, something she remembered all too clearly, but the rest of the week was a blur. Cordelia frowned slightly, struggling with her memory, then smiled. She remembered now. Spike had stolen one of Giles's books, and a fancy cross.

"Du Lac?" Cordelia said. 

Angel's eyebrows twitched in hastily concealed surprise. "He might have known about the anointed, but all his writings were lost when the watchers had him excommunicated."

"Giles has a copy in his library." Cordelia said.

"He does?" Angel exclaimed, not bothering to hide his surprise.

Cordelia nodded. "But you'll need Du Lac's cross to decode it."

Angel smiled. "Where's that? In your purse?"

Cordelia smiled back at Angel, amused by his attitude. "In his tomb, somewhere in Sunnydale. Think you can find it?"

  


****

  


Once they had finished talking Angel offered to walk Cordelia home, an offer she reluctantly accepted. Angel was determined to help her, and she would feel safer with him, but it would also give him more time to ask awkward questions. She would just have to hope Angel wouldn't think of any before she got home.

Still, the conversation had gone very well, considering that she hadn't had any chance to prepare for it. Once she'd told Angel about the loophole in his curse, he'd been too unsettled to worry about the holes in her story.

Cordelia glanced sideways at Angel. He looked broody, and he hadn't said a word since they started walking, but she thought he'd taken the news very well. Buffy would have made a big fuss, blaming Cordelia for everything, but Angel had his priorities straight. He must be feeling awful, but nothing would stop him helping Cordelia and Buffy. If only more people shared that attitude.

"Stop." Angel whispered, then pointed forwards.

Cordelia squinted into the dark, trying to see what had worried Angel. Her house was over five hundred yards away but she could just see an upright figure dimly lit by a sickly green glow.

"Fetch," the distant figure shouted, its voice faintly familiar.

The green glow began to move, flowing towards Cordelia.

Cordelia stepped behind Angel.

"Recognise it?" Angel asked, moving into a defensive position.

It did look almost familiar. Cordelia leaned forwards, staring at the misty green glow, trying to remember where she'd seen it before, then she smiled, recognising them from that business with the witch.

"It's a demon mist wolf thing, not as bad as it looks."

They might be big with lots of teeth but they were also slow and clumsy. Angel would have no trouble killing two of them.

"Amy said her mother got them in a sale," Cordelia added in a conversational tone, trying to impress Angel with her calm handling of the situation, "which just shows how mad she was. Everyone knows you can't buy anything decent at a sale."

The wolves were closer now, just fifty yards away. Cordelia stepped backwards.

"Buffy killed two of them, but some escaped when the witch died." Cordelia continued, almost enjoying herself. For the second time in one night Angel was relying on her for the answers, a good habit for him to get into. It would make it easier for her to persuade him to do the right thing.

Twenty yards away both wolves paused and looked at Angel. One sprang forwards, leaping for Angel's throat, but the other hesitated. 

"Cordelia." Angel said. "What kills them?"

The wolf knocked Angel to the ground, but he rolled with the impact, then whipped his legs up, kicking the wolf in its stomach.

Cordelia took another step backwards, trying to remember what Buffy had done. "Rip its head off."

The other wolf slowly circled around the fight, then headed straight for Cordelia.

Cordelia began running.

The wolf followed, close enough that Cordelia could hear every footstep.

Cordelia speeded up, trying to lose the demon wolf.

The wolf ran faster, matching her stride for stride.

OK, so she couldn't outrun it, but why hadn't it run this fast in the first place? Cordelia thought quickly, then slowed slightly.

Just as she had expected, the wolf slowed down, staying just behind her.

Cordelia smiled. The wolf must be toying with her, trying to terrify her, a stupid thing to do, but demons were like that. They enjoyed the gloating so much they ended up giving their victims time to escape. Since these demons were so stupid they'd tried the same technique on the slayer she shouldn't have any trouble outwitting them.

Cordelia began looking around, hoping to spot something she could use against the demon wolf.

The wolf leapt over her head, landing in front of Cordelia. Before she could recover from the surprise, it knocked her to the ground, then loomed over her, its jaw wide open.

"No!"

The wolf looked up, then whined. 

Cordelia smiled, recognising the voice of the ghost. Giles had given them all amulets, so it wouldn't be able to hurt her, but when the ghost made a spectacle of itself it might distract the demon wolf enough to let Cordelia escape.

"Mine," the ghost screeched, "My body. Mine. All mine."

A bolt of blood red lightning struck the wolf and the green mist boiled away, leaving the bare skeleton behind.

The demon yelped, then turned and ran, back towards Cordelia's house.

Cordelia stood up, dusting herself off.

"Ghost," she said firmly, "Explanation time," but no reply came from the empty air.

  


****

  


Cordelia walked slowly back to where she had left Angel, thinking about the ghost. First it harassed her, then it saved her life. Why? Cordelia struggled to think of a sensible explanation but soon gave up. Ghosts didn't think like people but Cordelia wasn't a ghost so there was no way she could work out what the ghost was thinking. She just hoped Giles would have an explanation. Normal ghosts were bad enough but being stalked by an insane ghost would be a whole new hell.

"Cordy?" Angel said.

Cordelia smiled. Angel had been running towards her but now he was just standing there, looking confused.

"Easy fight?" Cordelia asked, looking at the demon skull tucked under Angel's left arm.

Angel shrugged. "What happened to the other one?"

"Didn't you see it? It ran this way." Cordelia said, trying to decide what she would tell Angel. 

"Where did it go?" Cordelia asked, looking around as if nervous. She was confident that demon wouldn't go come near her again, not after the scare it had got, but asking the question would give her more time to think about an explanation. 

Angel should know about ghosts, since they were dead like him, but Angel would expect her to know about them too. She should be able to pull off the same cryptic act she had earlier, when talking about the anointed, but it wouldn't be easy. On the other hand, if she said she hadn't been told anything about ghosts she might be able to get lots of useful information from Angel, information she could use to impress Buffy and her friends.

"Back to Absalom."

"Absalom?" Cordelia echoed, wondering what Angel would think if she implied she'd killed the demon herself.

"A vampire." Angel explained. "I recognised his voice."

"So the master's got some new pets." Cordelia guessed, trying to remember if she'd ever heard Absalom's name before.

Angel nodded. "But what happened to the other demon?"

Cordelia sighed. She didn't want Angel to overestimate her martial skills, that could easily get them both killed, so she had to tell him about the ghost, despite the increased risk of Angel realising she didn't know as much as the story she had told him implied that she should.

"A ghost did." Cordelia said flatly, trying to sound as if ghosts were normal. "It's been following me around all day."

Angel looked surprised but quickly recovered his calm. "Why?"

"I don't know. Nobody warned me about this." Cordelia said, trying to sound indignant. She paused, feigning thought, then looked at Angel. "You must know about ghosts. Why is it doing this?"

Angel looked thoughtfully at Cordelia. "Shouldn't we go inside first. It's not safe out here."

"I'm never inviting you in." Cordelia said firmly. Still, Angel had a point. Being seen talking to strange men on the street wouldn't do her reputation any good.

Smiling sweetly, Cordelia looked at Angel. "Wait ten minutes while I change, then we can talk in the Bronze. You can tell me all about ghosts."

  


****

  


"The skull was back on its pedestal, but now its teeth were bloodstained. No one has dared move the skull since." Angel said.

"In my family we bury our parents." Cordelia said firmly. "We don't use their skulls as ornaments."

Angel smiled. "Someone else could have stolen the bodies."

"But that wouldn't make me the thief." Cordelia replied.

"Have you got any new jewellery? Some ghosts protect their family jewels and greed can conquer death. The Ashmore miser was drowned in the village pond by his son, a gambler who sold all his father's possessions to pay his debts. Ever since then -"

Cordelia listened carefully. Angel didn't know much about ghosts, just a few stories, but he did know more than Cordelia had. While none of Angel's stories matched her situation precisely they were giving her an insight into the way ghosts thought, an insight that would help her enhance her reputation with Buffy and the others.

She just had to hope none of them would see her talking to Angel. Buffy and Giles were busy in the graveyard but she had no idea where the others were. For the twelfth time that night Cordelia glanced nervously around the Bronze.

Xander and Willow were nowhere in sight. She was probably helping him with his homework again, which was fine as long as that was all she was doing. Willow did still seem too innocent to be trying anything with Xander, but after what had happened in the original future Cordelia knew better than to trust appearances. 

Cordelia froze briefly, lost in the painful memories, then forced her mind back to the present.

Owen was in the Bronze, sitting alone at a table across the dance floor. He might talk to Buffy, but he didn't know who Angel was yet. Besides, he was too busy looking longingly at the door to notice Cordelia.

Relieved that nobody important would notice her talking to Angel, Cordelia went back to listening to his stories.

"It didn't care if its victims were innocent. It wanted its gold back. The watchers bound the ghost ninety years ago, but the bed of that pond is still strewn with jewellery and bones, and the ghost still haunts its depths. It can not leave the pond while the binding endures, but now all those who swim in its waters die."

"Where have you been hiding him?" Harmony asked.

"You're early." Cordelia said, wondering how she could explain away Angel without making Harmony suspicious.

Harmony sat down next to Angel, brushing her hand against his thigh as if by accident, then leaned towards Angel, who promptly edged away from Harmony. She smiled suggestively at Angel, and asked him "Do you come here often?"

Cordelia smiled, amused. Harmony was trying her best but she had all the subtlety of a brick. She might seek to imitate Cordelia's own polished charm, but she only succeeded in appearing vain, domineering and arrogant, completely unlike Cordelia herself. Harmony had never yet kept a boyfriend for more than one date; she stood no chance with Angel.

Angel looked at Cordelia. "Do you know each other?" 

He had to be fishing for more information, since the answer was obvious.

"Of course." Harmony said, missing the undertones. "Cordelia is my best friend."

"Harmony isn't one of Buffy's friends." Cordelia said, telling Angel what he had really wanted to know.

Harmony scowled. "That what you were talking about? Forget about her. She's a psycho. She attacked Aura with a stick her first day here."

Cordelia couldn't let Harmony get away with remarks like that, not while Angel was listening. She glared at Harmony but before she could speak Angel interrupted. 

Ignoring Harmony completely he stood up and looked at Cordelia. "I'll get that cross for you. We can talk later."

"Leave it with Xander or you'll make Buffy suspicious."

Cordelia didn't want anyone to start wondering why she got special treatment from Angel. Annoying Xander would be a bonus.

Harmony watched Angel's back until he reached the door then turned to face Cordelia.

"Who is he?" Harmony asked, leaning forwards, a hungry look in her eye.

"Buffy's oldest friend." Cordelia said, hoping that would put Harmony off.

"Is that why you're hanging around them? Are you two dating?"

"No." Cordelia scoffed. Even Xander would be better than Angel. At least Xander was human, and alive.

"Angel is too old for me." Cordelia added. "Forget about him."

"But-" Harmony began, then she looked at Cordelia. "Want another drink?"

  


********

  


The next morning, before classes started, Cordelia stepped into the library. She had to get Giles's advice about the ghost's strange behaviour, and it would be a good opportunity to see if Angel had found the cross.

Several large crates blocked her view of the room, probably the new books Giles had been expecting from the board, but she could hear Xander talking.

"No one should be awake at five a.m."

Cordelia stepped around the crates and groaned. Giles had started to tidy up but there were still dozens of piles of books on the floor, remnants of the ghost's tantrum.

"Why hasn't he put these back yet." Cordelia muttered, skirting the piles.

Willow looked up. "He needs to resort them first. It could take days."

Xander and Willow were both sat at the near end of the main table, talking to each other, while Buffy was at the far end, looking depressed. 

Cordelia looked at the extremely tacky cross Willow was holding and smiled. It had to be the Du Lac cross; even Xander's tastes weren't quite that bad. Now that Angel had found it they should be able to find out more information about the anointed, and other vampire rituals, information that could give them a significant advantage over the original history.

"What's that?" Cordelia asked, faking curiosity.

"Angel gave it to Xander." Buffy said, sounding slightly jealous. "It's some special cross."

"Bad night?" Cordelia asked. She could guess the answer, but listening to Buffy grumble would help her image.

"Nothing happened."

"Nothing?"

"Six demons, but no anointed and no Owen. I spent six hours in a graveyard waiting for a prophecy that will never happen."

"But you killed six demons." Cordelia replied, trying to get Buffy to see the good.

Buffy scowled. "That's why I had to wait six hours. Giles was ready to give up waiting, then the first demon came."

"Six demons in three hours is too many, even for the hellmouth." Giles said, stepping out of the stacks, a book in his arms. "There has to be an explanation."

Cordelia nodded. If six different demons had found Buffy on the same night there must have been a lot of them out there,

Buffy glared at Giles. "But what about Owen? What do I say? Sorry about last night, I was in a cemetery, with the librarian, killing demons?" 

Cordelia frowned. She could understand why Buffy was so annoyed, she would have felt the same way herself, but this wasn't the right time to complain. Buffy could have all the sympathy she needed later, but right now they had more urgent problems than Buffy's hurt feelings; something Cordelia had ample proof of in her school bag.

"You weren't the only one." Cordelia said, pulling out the demon wolf's skull. "Giles, you know how to destroy this, right?"

Cordelia thought she remembered what Giles had done with the other, but she wasn't completely sure and Angel hadn't know what to do either. That was why they'd decided to let Giles deal with it.

"You killed a demon?" Buffy spluttered.

Xander and Willow stared at Cordelia, their eyes narrowed, but Giles frowned at the skull.

"How?" Willow said. "It was bigger than you, and stronger too. Even if you were warned it was coming, which you couldn't have been, because you would have told us and, since you don't know anyone else who would know apart from us who didn't know, the only people who could have warned you were the people who sent it who wouldn't have had any reason to warn you, that warning wouldn't have done you any good without special help which you didn't have since the only people who can give you such help are Buffy and Giles, but they didn't know."

Willow hesitated, looking at Cordelia's face, then nervously added "And I've said too much haven't I, that is not in the sense of saying something I don't want you to know I know since there's nothing I know I don't want you to know I know, but because questions shouldn't be longer than their answers, most of the time."

Xander groaned.

Cordelia smiled. "Been drinking coffee again, Willow?"

Willow nodded, looking relieved. 

Cordelia knew coffee couldn't be the real reason for Willow's jumpiness, not unless she was drinking it by the gallon, but it kept things simpler if she pretended to believe Willow's excuse.

It was already difficult enough to tell what Willow was thinking, despite the clues she kept dropping in her incontinent babbling, but if Willow realised Cordelia knew that Willow had suspicions she would either come up with some clever trick that would leave Cordelia with no idea what Willow was thinking or panic and mess everything up.

Still, at least Willow was still on the wrong track. From the way Willow babbled when anyone mentioned children it was obvious she'd been reading the notes Cordelia had been giving to Angel. Cordelia had no idea how Willow had managed that trick, since they'd been deleted the moment the computer had printed them, but it was lucky she had. It meant Willow was too busy chasing shadows to realise what Cordelia's real secret was.

"How did you do it?" Buffy asked.

"The ghost did." Cordelia looked at Giles. "But I haven't bought any old jewellery recently, or disturbed any graves. What does it want with me?"

Giles hastily concealed his surprise. "No family history?"

"No." Cordelia said firmly. If that had been the reason she'd have been haunted in the original history too.

Giles nodded. "The ghost does seem to consider you the guilty party, so none of the standard motivations can apply. Hmm, Purvis's monograph has the most comprehensive classification of hauntings. There should be an explanation in there."

Giles paused, looking sadly at the untidy piles of books. "If I can find it." 

Xander looked at Cordelia, at Buffy's confused expression, then back at Cordelia. "Could we have that again, with subtitles?"

"Never read any ghost stories?" Cordelia asked Xander, then smiled, pleased at her own ingenuity. It was difficult to use the information she had about the future and the occult without making Giles suspicious but she had to do it; it wasn't just a good way to put herself in a better position to get revenge on Xander, the world needed the foreknowledge she had. Fortunately, she had had little difficulty thinking up explanations.

It had been awkward trying to get the information out of Angel though, pretending she knew as much as him while asking questions. Cordelia knew she was up to the challenge, but if she was going to keep up the pretence she was working for a secret society she wouldn't be able to bluff all the time. She might need to think about getting her own sources, for when her future knowledge let her down.

Giles smiled. "Not the best of sources, but they do contain a kernel of truth. Cordelia, I presume the demon wolf was trying to kill you."

Cordelia nodded. "It was waiting outside my house, and it had a vampire with it giving orders."

She hadn't actually seen that herself, she was just going by what Angel had told her afterwards, but mentioning Angel would just raise awkward questions. It was so much simpler not to bother Giles with the petty details and only tell him what he really needed to know.

Giles frowned. "The master doesn't have that kind of power, not while he's trapped."

"That's what happened." Cordelia said, wondering what Giles's problem was.

"The demons should have been automatically banished when the witch died. Only some great evil could keep them here, but the master can't work such magics while trapped nor are any of his minions capable of such a feat. These demons shouldn't have been here."

"But we've got the hellmouth." Cordelia interrupted. "Couldn't that explain everything?"

They were already dealing with two situations, the ghost and the anointed; Cordelia really didn't need a third problem.

"The hellmouth isn't strong enough to explain this."

"Why not?" Willow asked.

"Incarnate demons have to be flesh and blood. The mist demons aren't. Demons like that, demons whose bodies defy natural law, can not exist in our reality unless sustained by magic, but even here, in the presence of the hellmouth, there is not enough ambient magic to sustain such flagrant defiance of natural law unless a witch dedicates their life energies to the task."

Cordelia frowned, thinking about the demons she'd seen. There hadn't been many, but they had all looked like people in masks, most of the time. They might have been ugly, but she could easily imagine them all having livers and lungs, keeping them alive in the normal way.

"What about vampires?" Willow asked, "They don't breath or anything."

"Vampires are thought to be sustained -" 

Buffy sighed.

Giles looked at her then cut his lecture short. "That was a simplification. If you want the full explanation I'll show you the books later. Right now, the key point is that the numian demon wolves should not still be here. I will need to consult my books."

Giles paused, polishing his glasses. "As for the ghost, Xander, it is clear that it bears some grudge against Cordelia, but it still protected her from the demon. There must be something it needs from Cordelia, but we don't know what. She's ruled out the most common motives."

"Um, can't we just ask the ghost what it wants?" Willow asked, looking doubtful about her own suggestion.

Giles frowned. "That is not a safe option. Seances are always dangerous, and we are on a hellmouth. Any error could have dire consequences."

That hadn't stopped Giles from trying to talk to Ms Calendar's ghost, but then Giles always worried too much.

"Who said seance?" Cordelia asked, wondering why Giles was making such a fuss. "The ghost talks anyway, and it can hear us." 

Giles shook his head. "Not precisely. Ghosts don't hear the words we say, they sense the intent behind them. Similarly, many ghosts do not actually speak, they just force their thoughts into our minds where we perceive them as speech. Listening too closely to such a ghost without the protection the procedures of a seance provide and you will open your mind to permanent possession."

OK, that was a good reason not to listen too closely to the ghost, but there had to be something they could do. 

"What can we do?" Cordelia asked.

"Research. It's fifty minutes till school starts. That should be enough time to get started." Giles said.

Xander sighed.

Cordelia looked at Xander and smiled. She wasn't too fond of the hours of boring research herself, but it would be nice to see Xander suffering to help her.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'm sure we'll learn to love research. You'll end up just like Giles, but younger."

Xander looked at Giles then groaned, hiding his head in exaggerated despair.

Cordelia quickly concealed her smile, then played innocent. "What did I say? What?"

  


****

  


"Where were you this morning?" Harmony said. "Hanging with those weird people?"

Aura winced, edging away from Harmony.

Cordelia smiled. "You seemed to like Angel last night, amnesia girl. I bet you've forgotten what I told you yesterday too."

Aura smirked, then quickly changed the subject. "That a new necklace?"

Trust Aura to notice that. Cordelia had put the anti-ghost amulet on a proper gold chain in the hope it would be less noticeable, and it was definitely less conspicuous than the string Giles had originally put it on, but buying a new chain for it might not have been the best idea.

"This?" Cordelia said, pulling the amulet out from under her blouse, "This thing? It's a good luck charm Rupert gave me."

Harmony glanced at the amulet. "But it's junk. If my boyfriend gave me that I'd dump him. Who is he, anyway?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know him. He's a university man, and wealthy too."

"Couldn't he have bought you something nicer?" Aura said, looking puzzled.

Cordelia smiled. "This is genuine ancient Egyptian, absolutely priceless."

Well, technically only the language was ancient Egyptian, some old prayer Giles had found, but she didn't need to bother Harmony with such unimportant details.

Aura gasped but Harmony seemed unimpressed.

"C-can I look at it?" Aura asked, holding out her hand.

"You can't touch." Cordelia said, stepping backwards. The amulet didn't look too bad from a distance, but Cordelia was almost certain the ancient Egyptians hadn't had any plastic. Aura and Harmony might be too stupid to notice the rest of the holes in her story, but they'd certainly notice that.

"Blind much?" the ghost snapped.

Cordelia groaned. If the ghost kept manifesting when she was with her friends her social life would soon be on the critical list. They wouldn't consciously remember the details, but they would remember that weird things had happened around Cordelia, and start avoiding her, a horrifying prospect. Worse, there was nothing much Cordelia could do to stop it happening, she just had to hope Giles would find a solution soon.

Aura shuddered. "Um. I've just remembered I've got to go," she said, then hurried off down the corridor.

Cordelia half-smiled. If her weirdness avoidance skills had been as good as Aura's then Cordelia would never have got caught up in Buffy's gang. Of course, if she hadn't Willow would have died on prom night.

"Playing ventriloquist?" Harmony sneered, "Part of your talent show act?"

There wasn't much wrong with Harmony's denial reflexes either, but sometimes these days Cordelia got the impression that even the hellmouth opening at their feet wouldn't shut Harmony up. She'd just attempt to deny it, then continue sniping.

Behind Harmony the ghost appeared, a blurred lump of red light.

"Harmony, serve me," it screeched. "Banish her. Banish the thief. Be rewarded."

"Nice act." Harmony said, looking at Cordelia.

"Harmony, leave now." Cordelia said. "You have to go, or you'll get hurt."

If Harmony didn't shut up and leave the ghost might just kill her, or it might possess her. Cordelia knew she was safe enough, since she had the amulet Giles had given her, but she couldn't protect Harmony and she didn't want to see Harmony hurt.

"Hurt?" Harmony drawled the word as if the concept were utterly meaningless. "By what? We're the only people here."

The ghost screeched angrily, then wrapped itself around Harmony's neck and yanked her into the air.

Harmony began screaming.

"Shut up!" the ghost roared, slamming Harmony against the wall. "Listen to me."

Harmony started sobbing quietly.

The ghost lowered Harmony to the floor. "You must help me. Cordelia has stolen my body."

Cordelia held her amulet out like a cross. "You're mad. I've not stolen any corpses. I'd remember."

Xander and Willow ran around the corner, looked at the ghost, and immediately pulled their amulets out.

The ghost laughed. "It's the three stooges; the thief, the dork, and the nerd. You can't stop me. Right is on my side."

"Hey!" Xander protested. "We're the good guys."

Willow looked at Harmony. "Is she all right?"

Cordelia nodded. "Just scared."

The ghost floated away from Harmony, then lunged towards Cordelia, red sparks crackling over its surface.

Cordelia's amulet flashed bright gold.

The ghost screamed in pain as it fell back against the opposite wall, its light almost extinguished.

Cordelia smiled. Willow's amulets hadn't worked very well, and they'd been smelly. Giles's amulets might look tacky, but they were much more effective. It was just unfortunate they only worked in self-defence, or Cordelia would have been able to chase the ghost away from Harmony, but Giles had flatly refused to even attempt to make anything they could actually attack the ghost with, saying that any magic touching the dead was dangerous so they should only do the minimum necessary to defend themselves. 

"What do we do now?" Xander asked Cordelia.

"Wait for the ghost to give up."

"Don't worry. You're safe now." Willow said, coaxing Harmony upright.

Harmony looked around nervously, then shook Willow off. "Are you mad? You're the one who knocked me down."

Ignoring Willow's hurt expression Harmony rambled on, blaming Willow for everything the ghost had just done.

Cordelia glared at Harmony. "I've already told you to leave once. Must I repeat myself?"

"I'm not the one -" Harmony began, then looked Cordelia in the face. "Um, I mean you can hang with who you like but I won't join you."

"That's good denial." Xander said approvingly, watching Harmony walk away.

Willow looked nervously at the ghost. "Has it said anything new?"

Cordelia smiled. "It asked Harmony for help."

Xander laughed. "Harmony? What could she do? Buy it a new coffin?"

"It must be mad." Cordelia said, nodding, then patted Xander on the arm. "That was brave, running up like that. It might have been something dangerous."

It had also been incredibly foolish, but flattery was the best way to get Xander where she wanted him.

Willow scowled. "Shouldn't you be more careful what you say near the ghost?"

Cordelia glanced at the ghost, which still looked battered by its encounter with the amulet. "Why? It's harmless now."

Ignoring its whining, Cordelia turned her back on the ghost. "Where's Buffy?"

Willow stared at Cordelia for a second then shook herself. "Um, Giles took her into the sewers."

"Why?" Giles never went in the sewers. None of them did, apart from Buffy, and not just because of the smell.

"Oh, yes, you weren't here yet. The board sent Giles some special seals to demon-proof the library with but he's got to put some of them in the sewers underneath the school so he took Buffy with him for protection."

Cordelia smiled. "Demon-proof? So the board is good for something."

Willow nodded. "And they sent Giles all those extra books, books council members aren't normally allowed to read. That's why they wanted the extra security. It won't be completely demon-proof but they won't be able to just walk in and steal our books."

That was a change for the better, but the board's involvement worried Cordelia. These were people Giles respected, people who had already been fighting evil for decades when Giles was born, but they were panicking.

At first she'd tried to dismiss their warnings, telling herself that nothing was wrong. She was the one who had changed the future, for the better. The burst of bad omens must just be a coincidence. It wasn't as if she'd done anything that could cause it. No, it had to be the fault of this Omega who had been giving Buffy bad dreams, but Cordelia had been confident he was just another overhyped demon that Xander had never bothered to tell her about.

Now though, Cordelia was beginning to wonder. People as experienced as Giles said the board was shouldn't panic easily. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps there really was some dark god out there, plotting against them. It would certainly explain her persistent bad luck, but why wouldn't this Omega have been part of the original history?

Something about all this definitely felt wrong, but Cordelia had no idea what, or how to fix it.

"Cordelia." Xander said, "The ghost's gone."

Cordelia jerked her attention back to the present and smiled. "Has Buffy asked Owen out yet?"

Xander just rolled his eyes, but Willow began babbling excitedly.

  


****

  


That evening Cordelia went over to Buffy's house, prepared for a challenge. She had to make sure Buffy and Owen would stay together, not just for one night, but for months, either that or risk Buffy releasing Angelus. It should have been easy, the two of them were already flirting with love, but Cordelia knew the hellmouth was going to mess things up. Buffy was only going to have twenty minutes with Owen before Angel dragged her away, twenty minutes to so enrapture him that no hellmouth spawned terror could frighten him off. True, the anointed prophecy might fizzle, but Cordelia knew better than to rely on good luck.

Buffy would need all the help she could get, but Xander would be no use and Willow a positive hindrance. Fortunately, Cordelia was more than up to the challenge.

"Here, put these on." Cordelia said, handing Buffy a low-cut black top and some skin-tight red leather pants, "And you should wear a necklace."

Buffy looked doubtful. "Those? Aren't they-"

Cordelia interrupted. "Remember, you are the slayer."

"How could I forget, but -"

"There could be vampires in the Bronze tonight. If you have to keep disappearing you need to make sure Owen's attention doesn't wander."

Xander took one look at the outfit Cordelia had selected and began shaking his head frantically. "No, no. If his attention wanders you don't want him."

Cordelia smiled. It was pathetic the way Xander was trying to sabotage Buffy's date. He'd even wanted Buffy to dress like a nun, and all in the futile hope that Buffy would eventually pick him over Owen. Of course, if Xander knew the alternative to Owen was a vampire, his attitude would be very different.

Looking resigned Buffy began to put the outfit on, then stopped and looked meaningfully at Xander.

"You're not bothering me." Xander said, deliberately missing the point. 

Cordelia sighed, then turned Xander around. 

"Give it up," she said quietly, "You'll only get hurt."

Avoiding Cordelia's gaze, Xander began fiddling with a mirror. "What would you know? You've never been turned down. You've never had to wait and hope some boy would notice you. You don't know what it's like. I do. Buffy is worth waiting for."

Cordelia scowled, slapping Xander's hand away from the mirror before he saw anything he shouldn't. Thanks to Xander's betrayal she had been turned down. She knew exactly how painful love could be, and she knew that pain was all Xander would get from waiting for Buffy; she would never notice him that way.

"Remember, I'm your friend now." Cordelia said. "I'm only trying to help."

Cordelia didn't enjoy seeing Xander make a fool of himself, at least when she wasn't responsible, and besides, if she could persuade him to start taking her romantic advice it would be much easier to manipulate him, something she needed to do to get her revenge.

"Wow! I never knew being a teenager was so full of possibilities!" Buffy said, pulling on her boots.

Cordelia turned around and smiled. With Buffy looking like that Owen wouldn't be easily scared off. Clothes alone might not guarantee a successful relationship, but the right clothes were a good start.

The doorbell rang.

"That's Owen!" Buffy cried, dashing downstairs.

It wasn't. When Cordelia followed Buffy downstairs, at a safer speed, she saw Giles stood in the doorway, talking to Buffy.

"My calculations may not have been as far off as I thought," he said, holding up a newspaper cutting.

"Five die in van accident?" Buffy read.

"Out of the ashes of five shall rise the one. That's the original prophecy. Five people have died."

"In a car crash." Buffy stated flatly, challenging Giles to explain the connection.

"I know it doesn't quite follow but there's more. I've translated Du Lac's description of the harvest ritual."

"The harvest was weeks ago."

Giles smiled. "Exactly three weeks ago tonight."

"Is that significant?" Willow asked.

Giles nodded, pulling a notepad out of his shirt pocket. "Yes. Du Lac says 'Anointed is the vessel, blessed by his master.' He describes the harvest in detail then continues, 'But if the vessel should die before his master is sated the bond that binds them shall not be broken. Though the abyss of death separates them still they shall be linked, still the vessel shall heed his master's call. After thrice seven days he may return, bereft of memory, possessed of mystic might.' See, it all fits together."

Buffy looked hesitant, then said "May? Luke doesn't even have a body. How can he come back?"

"His demon will return from its afterlife and occupy the body of one of those killed last night. It's a vampiric parody of reincarnation."

"Hey!" Owen said, smiling at Buffy as he walked in, then he noticed Giles. "Um, hi?"

"You have a date?" Giles asked, surprised.

"Yes." Buffy smiled "But I will return those overdue library books by tomorrow."

"Wait, you're not getting off that easily."

"Man, you really care about your work." Owen interrupted, looking at Giles.

Cordelia frowned, trying to decide how to get Owen out of the way. They couldn't talk about the anointed with him listening.

"Um, Owen." Willow said quietly, nudging Xander.

"Yes, a couple of things about tonight." Xander added, pulling Owen away from the door.

Smiling, Cordelia followed the three of them. She hadn't had a chance to talk to Owen yet but now she would be able to give him good advice, advice that should ensure this wouldn't be his only date with Buffy.

"What, she doesn't like to dance?" Owen said, looking disbelievingly at Xander.

"Ignore him." Cordelia said, looking reproachfully at Xander. "I know what Buffy likes."

Cordelia paused, thinking about Angel, then looked at Owen. "Be mysterious. Don't speak unless she asks you a question, and don't give straight answers. Make her think you've got hidden depths. Then she'll want to unwrap your mysteries."

"Does that really work?" Xander asked, smiling hopefully.

Cordelia shook her head. "Not for you but Owen's naturally broody. Play to your strengths."

"Um, mustn't keep Buffy waiting." Owen said, sidling back through the door.

Cordelia followed him, Xander and Willow close behind her.

"Yes, and you'll face a pretty hefty fine in the morning." Giles said.

"Bye, don't wait up." Buffy said, avoiding Giles's gaze as she hurried away from the house, Owen on her arm.

"But, isn't something happening tonight." Willow said, looking concerned.

"Maybe. Buffy pointed out certain ambiguities in the translation and my calculations have already been proved inexact."

Cordelia frowned. That wasn't enough reason for Buffy to abandon her duties. Cordelia could understand why Buffy had downplayed Giles's concerns, she would have done the same herself if she'd had a hot date waiting, but she wasn't the slayer. Slaying shouldn't be the only thing in Buffy's life, or even the most important thing, but Buffy couldn't let anything else get in the way of the slaying. Buffy had learnt that by the time Cordelia had made her wish but it seemed she hadn't learnt it yet.

"What should we do?" Xander asked. 

"You shouldn't do anything. Buffy may well be right. I'll just go to the funeral home, see if anything happens."

"This is bad." Willow said, watching Giles walk away.

Xander nodded. "I wish it was just bad."

"Don't worry." Cordelia said. Giles hadn't died in the original history so she was almost certain he would be safe, especially since Angel had said he would be hanging around the funeral home.

"Giles knows how to protect himself."

Willow didn't look convinced.

  


****

  


Cordelia paused outside the door of the Bronze. "Remember, act normal in front of Owen."

Willow just nodded but Xander smiled mischievously. "Cordy, don't worry. I'm sure Willow can think of an innocent reason for Buffy to leave her date for me."

Cordelia smiled faintly then slipped inside the Bronze, looking for Buffy.

"Cordelia!" Harmony said, smiling broadly at her friend.

Cordelia faked a smile. "Can't talk. I'm meeting someone."

Ignoring Harmony's affronted expression Cordelia left her standing by the door and stalked into the crowd. Much as she would have loved to talk she just didn't have the time, not with Giles in danger.

Why couldn't Xander have told her more about this evening? He'd gone on and on about the handful of times he'd done something useful, and hardly said a word about the other incidents. Well, it would be his fault if Giles got killed by those vamps just because she hadn't been told enough about tonight.

Angel wasn't doing his job right either. She had been expecting him to be guarding the funeral home, which would have kept Giles out of danger. Left to herself, Cordelia wouldn't even have bothered checking up on Angel. He was almost as strong as Buffy; a few vampires shouldn't have been any problem for him.

Willow had been worried though, worried about Giles walking into potential danger by himself. She had insisted that they follow him and Cordelia hadn't been able to object. Cordelia had wanted to go straight to the Bronze, where she could keep on giving Buffy and Owen dating tips, but saying that would have made it seem like she didn't care about Giles.

Instead she had let Willow persuade her to follow Giles, expecting to find that Angel had killed all the vampires leaving Giles completely safe, but there had been no sign of Angel and Giles had been trapped in a room full of corpses.

Cordelia stopped in the middle of the dance floor, half listening to the music while she tried to remember exactly where she had seen Buffy on this night the first time round.

"Buffy."

Recognising Angel's voice, Cordelia quickly turned and walked towards him.

"What do you know?" Angel was asking.

"Giles translated Du Lac." Cordelia replied. "She knows all about the anointed."

Cordelia paused and looked straight at Angel. "What are you doing here, alone with Buffy?"

Angel edged away from Buffy, looking apologetic. "I just thought I'd warn her. We need her."

"Angel's not with me." Buffy said hastily, then pointed at the bar. "I'm with Owen."

"You're here on a date?" Angel asked, clearly surprised.

Wondering where Xander and Willow had got to, Cordelia quickly glanced around the Bronze but she couldn't see them.

"Yes! Why is it such a shock to everyone? And, Cordy, why are you here?"

"Here you go." Owen said, passing Buffy a chocolate doughnut, then looked curiously at Angel.

"Um," Buffy said, looking at the two males, "Owen, this is Angel, and you already know Cordy. Angel, this is Owen, who is my date."

Cordelia caught sight of Xander dashing through the crowds.

As Buffy put her arm around Owen Angel looked at Cordelia. "This is good, right?"

Cordelia nodded, smiling. She could understand Angel feeling a little jealous but Owen was the best boyfriend Buffy could hope for. Angel would just have to get used to seeing them together.

"Hey! So, where do you know Buffy from?" Owen asked.

"Work."

"You work?" Owen asked Buffy disbelievingly.

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, running up behind Owen.

"Look at this." Owen said, as he glanced first at Willow, then at Cordelia, then finally at Xander. "I never thought I'd see you and Cordelia so close together. Interesting."

Xander smiled. "You don't know the half of it."

Xander paused and pointed at Angel. "What's he doing here?"

"I guess the same thing you're doing."

Buffy looked at the crowd surrounding her. "Um, excuse me, what are any of you doing here?"

"Look, we've got to get to -"

Cordelia quickly elbowed Xander in the ribs. "Angel's here because of his work."

"We thought it would be fun if, um, we made this a double date." Xander said.

Cordelia frowned. That might explain why Xander and Willow had appeared in the Bronze, but it did nothing to help get Buffy out of the Bronze. The way Willow had used that flimsy excuse to wrap herself around Xander wasn't doing much for Cordelia's blood pressure either.

"You guys aren't seeing each other, are you?" Buffy asked nervously. "Remember the dreams."

Willow edged away from Xander, but kept one hand on his waist. "Don't worry. We'd never really, um, do that thing that you had nightmares about, but we can still pretend."

"Nightmares?" Owen muttered, then asked. "You guys are thinking double?"

"Treble," Cordelia said, trying to make sure Angel would stay with the rest of the gang.

"I knew it, Cordelia." Harmony said, walking up behind Cordelia. "You two are dating. Does he know about Rupert?"

"Rupert?" Buffy echoed. "Are you guys really together?"

"Rupert gave her that tacky necklace," Harmony said. "Just like the one Buffy's wearing."

Willow nervously fingered the chain of her amulet.

"They're both just good friends, like Xander and Willow," Cordelia said firmly, "and this is a private conversation. Go and find someone to dance with."

"But-"

Cordelia glared Harmony into silence. She didn't have time to waste placating Harmony, not when Buffy should have been out of the Bronze five minutes ago.

"Hey, maybe we should all go somewhere else?" Xander said, looking impatient.

"Including Harmony? " Owen said, looking at the five gatecrashers to his date.

Everyone except Harmony hurriedly said "No!" 

Ignoring Harmony's offended scowl Buffy quickly said "So nice of you to ask but Owen and I were, well, Owen and I."

"You know what'd be cool." Xander continued. "The Sunnydale funeral home."

Cordelia sighed. Could Xander have thought of a more suspicious way of mentioning their destination?

"The funeral home?" Buffy asked.

"Actually, that sounds kind of fun." Owen said, proving he really was Buffy's ideal boyfriend. "Do you think we could all sneak in?"

"We saw some guys there earlier." Cordelia said. "They were having fun with Giles."

"Bite me." Buffy said quietly, then sighed. "Owen, I've got to go."

"I thought we were all going to the funeral home."

"No. You can't. But I'll be back soon."

"Buffy -" Owen said, leading her away for a more private conversation.

Xander sighed. "We really need a bat signal."


	8. Cordelia's Ghost: Visiting the dead

Cordelia followed Buffy into the funeral home.

"Um, where's Angel gone?" Willow asked as she stepped inside.

"Into the sewers." Cordelia replied.

"Why?" Xander asked, looking suspicious.

"In case the vampires try and sneak the anointed out that way."

Willow nodded. "Smart move."

It was, but that wasn't the made reason why Angel had gone of by himself. He was worried that if Buffy had another chance to watch him fighting she'd realise he was a vampire. Cordelia knew that wouldn't stop Buffy trusting him, but she hadn't been able to convince Angel of that. After a short whispered conversation on their way to the funeral home Angel had decided the most useful thing he could safely do was guard the sewers.

"You let him go down there? By himself?" Buffy said, "He'll get killed. Why didn't he tell us?"

"He didn't want to waste time arguing with us. I think Giles is this way."

Cordelia pointed left. "You first, Buffy."

As they hurried down the corridor Xander smiled. "What I want to know is why a funeral home would have sewer access."

"Everywhere in Sunnydale does, um, probably." Cordelia replied. "An easy way to dump inconvenient bodies. It's all part of that lovely hellmouth ambience."

Willow nodded. "She's right. All the building plans I've looked at have indoor sewer access."

They turned the corner.

"Damn it." Buffy swore, looking at the dead end.

"This is so cool."

Cordelia turned around and groaned. Owen had followed them from the Bronze. Well, she would just have to hope that he'd seen enough of Buffy not to be easily scared off.

"Um, Owen, you can't be here." Buffy said, her voice filled with mingled worry and annoyance.

"Oh, and I suppose you guys are allowed? What are we doing here? Are we going to see a dead body?"

"Possibly several." Buffy replied offhandedly. "Guys, watch him."

Buffy ran back down the corridor, past the main doors, then turned left at the far end.

"Is she mad?" Owen asked, clearly puzzled.

Willow looked thoughtful for a second, then spoke. "No. She just wants to make sure there are no guards so we don't get in trouble."

Owen smiled. "Good thinking."

"Wait." Cordelia cautioned, seeing the building main doors swing open.

"What are you doing here?" Harmony asked, closing the doors behind her. "It's worse than the library. And where's Angel?"

"That's why you followed me? Harmony, Angel is out of your league. Forget him."

Harmony scowled. "No. I have to know, what's happened to you? Ever since Buffy came you've been hanging out with these weird people, in weird places."

"Hey!" Owen shouted. "Buffy's not weird."

Cordelia frowned. This was typical of the way her luck was running. Somehow, despite her Hellmouth denial, Harmony had noticed the subtle flaws in Cordelia's facade of normality. 

It would have been bad enough if Harmony had just started gossiping about what she'd noticed, but nothing Cordelia couldn't cope with. Instead, Harmony had stuck her head in the hellmouth's jaws.

Now, Harmony might be killed at any moment, just because Cordelia hadn't been careful enough.

Ignoring Owen, Harmony looked straight at Cordelia. "Cordelia, what have they done to you? Drugs? I only want to help you."

Cordelia laughed derisively. The only person Harmony had ever wanted to help was herself.

"Transparent much." Cordelia sneered. "You're just looking for ammunition. I've told you -"

Buffy ran back around the corner, then stopped and stared at Harmony.

"What's she doing here?"

"She followed Cordy." Xander said, then looked apologetically at Cordelia.

Buffy glared at Cordelia. "This isn't bring-a-friend night. Anyone else brought a surprise guest? Xander? Willow?"

"I didn't invite her." Cordelia protested.

"Is everything okay?" Willow nervously asked in a transparent attempt to change the subject.

"It is." Buffy replied curtly.

"And we'll be leaving?" Xander asked.

"We're not done looking around yet." Owen protested.

"No, he's right." Buffy said. "So let's find a nice, safe, fun room to look around in."

Harmony started to complain but Cordelia grabbed her arm. "You're staying with us."

Being trapped in a room with Harmony and Willow was not Cordelia's idea of fun but she didn't want Harmony wandering off by herself on a night this dangerous.

Ten yards down the corridor Buffy rattled an office door on the left hand wall.

"I tried that," Owen said, "but it's locked."

"No it's not." Buffy said, forcing the door open.

As they all filed into the room Owen said, "Well, I don't think we'll find much in here."

"That's the plan." Buffy replied, glancing around the room.

"That's your plan?" Harmony echoed, clearly confused.

Buffy looked at Owen and laughed nervously. "I have to go now, um, to the bathroom. I have to go to the bathroom. If you hear anything, like a security guard or something, just be really quiet."

Buffy paused, looking at Cordelia, Xander and Willow. "And barricade the door."

As soon as Buffy had gone Xander closed the door and pushed a chair in front of it.

Cordelia grabbed one end of the sofa and began pulling it toward the door.

"What are you guys doing?" Owen asked.

"Just in case." Willow said, picking up a second chair.

"In case what?" Harmony asked. "This is the weirdest date."

Xander grabbed the other end of the sofa. "You're not helping."

Together they put the sofa in front of the door then piled more furniture on top of it.

"Oh, my!" Owen exclaimed.

Cordelia turned to see what he'd found and groaned. She'd never liked the idea of corpses but knowing it might become a vampire made it even less attractive.

Owen stared through the viewing window, his gaze locked on the corpse.

"I've read a lot about death but ... I've never really seen a dead body before."

Harmony glanced at the corpse, then shuddered and hurriedly backed away. "I never want to see one again."

Owen shivered. 

"Death," he said. Reflectively. "I've never been so close. It's chilling, being so close. You can almost feel death's cold aura, chilling the room."

"Um," Willow interrupted apologetically. "It's not in your mind. Look at the walls."

Cordelia glanced at the walls then stiffened, her attention caught. She was still warm from her recent exertions, but the walls were speckled with frost, and it was spreading fast.

"This isn't right." Cordelia told herself. She'd never actually seen a vampire rise but Xander had, though he hadn't said when. Unnatural cold was not supposed to be part of the process. 

Like mildew the gleam of ice spread across the off-white walls, then mantled the barricade in an armour of ice, sealing them in the room.

"Did someone turn the heating off?" Harmony asked, shivering heavily.

Xander looked at her disbelievingly. "You really are good at denial."

Owen tapped the viewing window. "What is it? Some kind of security system? Odd design. But why hasn't this window frosted up?"

Willow glanced at Owen. "Must be same temperature on both sides.

"We have to get out of here." Xander said. "We need Buffy."

Cordelia nodded. They always needed Buffy. 

"She said we should stay here. There are -" Willow paused and looked at Owen. "There might be bad people out there."

Xander looked at the corpse then Harmony. "It's no better in here." 

He touched the barricade, then swiftly pulled his hand back and blew on his fingers. "That's cold! Must be way subzero. Anyone got some gloves?"

Owen tapped the viewing window again. "What's happening in there? The light's gone all weird."

The window shimmered, bulged towards Owen, then splintered, a spiderweb of cracks radiating from a point perhaps six inches below Owen's finger.

Willow glanced at Owen and her eyes widened in horror.

"Duck!" Willow screamed, plunging to the ground.

Cordelia immediately copied her. Willow was smart, too smart to be playing games at a time like this. If she wanted them to duck there had to be a very good reason.

Harmony stared incredulously at Cordelia. "What-".

The window exploded.

The glass whistled overhead, hitting the opposite wall in a deafening fusillade, and the light dimmed.

Then the screaming began.

Cordelia looked up. 

Her face pale, Harmony brushed her fingers across her back, wincing at every touch, then looked at her hands and screamed. 

Xander and Willow both looked fine. Like Cordelia, they'd ducked below the blast. Harmony hadn't been so sensible, but at least she'd been facing away from the window. She might have a few scars on her back but Harmony should be all right.

Then Cordelia looked at Owen. He'd staggered backwards but he was still facing the corpse and he was screaming, a high-pitched heart-wrenching wail that forced Cordelia to cover her ears.

"Owen," Willow said softly, and he turned towards them.

Harmony took one look at his face and fainted.

Owen's face glistened, a myriad glass shards catching the dim light.

Cordelia hurriedly looked away, horrified. She had seen many terrible things in her time but nothing like this. Owen was not some demonic monstrosity, his appearance a reflection of inner evil; he was human. He did not deserve to be ugly, nor had he been, but now he would be. Even the very best plastic surgery would leave him disfigured and completely blind.

It should not have happened, but it had and Cordelia knew it had to be her fault. Not directly, she hadn't planned this, but she knew it hadn't happened in the original history. The new history only existed because of her wish, which made her ultimately responsible for every change in it, good or bad, intentional or accidental.

Still, Cordelia couldn't see how any action of hers could be directly responsible for this tragedy. It had to be more than just bad luck. There had to be something else altering history, for the worse. Perhaps some demon had followed her back from the future, perhaps the board was right about Omega, but either way it would have to be stopped. Cordelia had made her wish so the world would become a better place. She was not going to tolerate anything perverting her intentions. She would just have to find the thing responsible and unleash Buffy on it.

Of course, she needed to deal with the current crisis first.

Owen staggered forward two steps, then fell to his knees.

Willow hesitated briefly, then stepped forward and knelt down beside Owen.

"Don't worry," Willow said. "We'll get you to hospital. Um, we need to get out of here."

Cordelia sighed. Willow's heart was in the right place, but it wouldn't stay there if she didn't learn better priorities.

"The weird stuff isn't over, Willow." Cordelia patiently explained. "There has to be more to this than exploding glass. Getting killed won't help Owen. Staying alive comes first, always."

"But-" Willow began.

"Cordy's right, about the weird stuff. Look at the shadows." Xander said, staring towards the corpse.

The shadows were moving, dark stains sliding through the icy walls.

Cordelia hastily looked around, then groaned. While she'd been concentrating on Willow and Owen the light had faded, leaving the room as dimly lit as the bronze.

There were shadows everywhere now, racing through the floor, darkening the air.

"Something wicked this way comes." Willow quoted, peering warily into the shadows.

Cordelia nodded. There was a feeling in the air, a vague sense of some approaching menace, just like when the hellmouth had opened.

Behind the corpse the shadows pooled, shadow piling upon shadow to swallow all light. The walls, the ceiling, the very floor melted at their touch, as insubstantial as a dream, leaving the corpse at the near edge of an abyss of endless night. A wind blew out of the abyss, carrying the stench of decay, and shapes moved within it, darker than the darkness.

Shocked, Cordelia stepped backwards. That didn't look like Sunnydale out there. Either the world outside had gone downhill really fast or she was looking outside the world through a gateway into some demon dimension but, whatever the explanation, this should not have been happening. There was no way Xander wouldn't have told her about something this dramatic, much as she wished she could believe otherwise 

Behind her Cordelia could hear Owen whimpering while Willow mumbled comforting words, but she ignored them. Instead she stared into the darkness, wondering what would happen next. So far she hadn't seen anything really dangerous, not like the night the hellmouth opened, but at any moment an army of demons might swarm into the room and kill her. She could only hope that the ghost would protect her, that it would be strong enough to kill them all, but if she didn't watch she wouldn't know if it won.

In the darkness of the abyss something vast moved, and the lesser shapes parted before it. Carved from solid night, so dark as to make the jet black abyss seem like the palest grey, its shape defied the eye. It was like those trick pictures, both face and vase, but much less attractive. It was an ancient monolith, stained with the blood of a thousand sacrifices; a gigantic skeleton, burning with ebon flame; a great three-headed beast, venom dripping from its jaws; all that and a dozen things more, each horrifying enough to fuel a month of nightmares.

Cordelia stumbled backwards, her knees trembling. She had seen much since she met Buffy, faced terrors that would drive Harmony mad within seconds, but she had never seen anything like that. She had seen a man made of maggots, seen Xander kissing Willow, seen the hellmouth open; but all those remembered scares were as nothing next to the horror in front of her. This was no ordinary demon; this was something new, something worse. 

The aura of its power filled the room, whispering in her ear, prying at her soul, plaguing Cordelia with formless terrors.

Unable to look away, Cordelia sank to her knees, overcome by despair. The darkness had come to claim her, and all hope was lost.

Cordelia frowned, trying to focus on just one of the demon's faces, vainly hoping that would reduce her fear. It was a dead tree in a corpse-strewn field; its roots snaking through the rotting flesh to drink deep from the blood soaked soil, its ebon branches clawing at the sky in an endless struggle to pull down the very heavens. The wind swept through its branches, whispering in Cordelia's ear, and a single rotting apple fell from the tree, landing on the corpse's forehead.

The corpse jerked once then lay still as the apple's foul juices soaked into its skin.

The tree leaned forward, bending before the wind, until a single twig touched the dim light on Cordelia's side of the corpse.

The earth trembled.

The tree burst into flame, dazzlingly bright scarlet flame. Squinting against the light, Cordelia caught one last glimpse of the tree, a fast fading shadow scuttling away, then normal light returned to the room as the unnatural cold vanished.

"What was all that about?" Xander asked, his voice shaky.

Cordelia shrugged. If something important had just happened they'd find out soon enough. Right now, they just needed to find Buffy. She turned and looked at the door, then smiled.

It had only been a small tremor, but it had shaken the ice off the walls and toppled the barricade.

"Let's just get out of here." Cordelia said, pulling a chair away from the door.

"About time." Harmony said as she stood up. "This has been a really dull evening."

Exasperated, Cordelia turned to look at Harmony, "Are you really that blind, or just stupid?"

Behind Harmony the corpse rippled.

Her posture radiating contempt, Harmony looked Cordelia straight in the eye. "I am not scared of shadows."

Ignoring Harmony, Cordelia looked at Willow, who was once more bent over Owen. "Get him moving. The vampire's waking up."

"What!" Xander shouted. "How?"

Cordelia sighed, then turned around, wondering what was bothering Xander. He didn't sound scared, so it couldn't be anything much.

He'd opened the office door, and was staring into the corridor, a corridor that seemed to have been completely rebuilt in the last few minutes.

"That explains Buffy." Cordelia said. "She must be lost."

Five minutes ago there had been a blank wall opposite the door, and corridors leading to the left and right, but that wasn't what Cordelia saw now. Instead a single corridor lead away from the office, curving gently to the left.

Harmony smiled. "What's up. Can't you find the way out without your friend?"

"Can you?" Cordelia challenged, and Harmony fell silent.

Willow helped Owen upright, murmuring reassurances.

Behind them, the corpse sat up and stared at Cordelia, its flesh still rippling.

"That's no vampire." Cordelia quietly said, unable to look away from the bizarre spectacle.

Even as she watched its eyes moved, not the eyeballs, but the very sockets, slowly drifting together until they merged, the two eyeballs melting into each other, forming a single giant eye.

"Some kind of demon?" Willow speculated.

Cordelia nodded. Eyghon had done something similar to his hosts, making Ms Calendar look really ugly. This had to be another demon, which had somehow managed to possess the corpse.

"Who cares?" Xander asked. "We've got to run."

"Where?" Harmony snapped.

"Don't run." the demon said, standing up. "You have summoned me, Ytwomj, back from beyond the gates of death. Stay now, and receive your reward."

Harmony turned and glared at the demon. "No one asked you. Go back to sleep."

Ytwomj hesitated, looking uncertainly around the room. "Did you summon me? Where are the three hands of glory, the choir of chanting demons, the skulls of my enemies? Why have you brought me no sacrifices?"

Cordelia shoved Harmony towards the door. "Run."

Harmony glared at Cordelia, then slowly sauntered down the corridor, her seeming nonchalance belied only by the nervous way she rhythmically clenched her fists. 

Ytwomj sat down, looking thoughtful. "This isn't right."

Cordelia hesitated. The ghost might protect her from this demon, if it was strong enough, but Giles had warned her she shouldn't rely on it. The only sensible thing to do was to run away, but Cordelia knew the value of her image. Being the first of Buffy's gang to run would look bad. It wouldn't feel too good either, abandoning people to the demon's mercy, especially if they died.

Xander looked nervously at the demon, then at Willow helping Owen, then back at the demon.

"The ceremony was not performed," Ytwomj continued, "yet I have returned. Well, no matter, that just means you are mine to devour. Run, foolish children, I would savour the pleasures of the chase. Run well and I might even permit you the honour of entering my service, if my appetite has been sufficiently sated by the hearts of your friends."

Cordelia smiled, relieved. It was just like a demon to waste time gloating, but Cordelia didn't mind. It just gave her more time to make sure everyone escaped.

"Who said that?" Owen asked, looking around blindly.

"A security guard." Xander replied, then looked at Willow. "Can he run?"

Cordelia frowned. In Owen's current state, blind and pain-wracked, he'd have difficulty outrunning a snail. They couldn't just leave him behind but he'd never be able to keep up.

"Can we carry him?" Cordelia asked, looking around the room for something they could use as a stretcher.

Ytwomj looked at Owen then giggled. "Chasing him will be no sport but torture is always fun. You may watch, if you like, watch and learn your own fate. The extra fear will make your hearts taste even nicer."

Ytwomj smiled, showing a mouth full of fangs.

"If you can't stand the sight of a little torture you can always run and abandon your friend to my pleasures. His dying screams should spur you to greater speed, but no mortal can outrun my hunger."

"We could fight." Xander said, his voice trembling.

"Fight?" Ytwomj laughed. "You think you could fight me?"

The demon lunged forwards, grabbed Xander by the wrist, then stepped backwards, flicked its arm upwards and let go.

Xander screamed as he bounced off the ceiling, then the demon caught him and hurled him into the sofa.

Willow yelped and ran to Xander's side.

"Fight me?" Ytwomj repeated scornfully. "You are not worthy of that honour."

Smiling, Ytwomj stepped forward, put his clawed hand on Owen's shoulder, and pushed him down.

"Are you coming?" Harmony shouted.

Cordelia quickly glanced behind her. Harmony was standing half way down the corridor, impatiently tapping her feet.

As Cordelia looked back into the room Xander shrugged off Willow and stood up, barely wincing at all.

The demon knelt down, bending over Owen's prone body, ripped Owen's shirt open, then with its longest claw drew a line of blood down Owen's chest, from neck to navel.

Owen screamed.

Shuddering, Cordelia hastily looked away.

Ytwomj looked up. "Will you watch or will you run?"

That wasn't a decision Cordelia wanted to make. She wanted to run, but she didn't want to abandon Owen, or watch him be tortured, so what should she do? It wasn't a decision anyone should have to make, but someone had to make it.

Cordelia looked hopefully at Xander. He could make the decision, and live with the consequences. It might trouble his conscience but that was no more than he deserved, not after the way he had betrayed her.

Xander hesitated.

Owen screamed again, louder.

Xander winced, looked uncertainly at Willow and Cordelia, then sighed and nudged Willow towards the door.

"I don't want you to watch." Xander said quietly, his voice trembling. "Run."

Willow grabbed Xander's arm. "Not without you."

The demon sniggered, then plunged its claw into Owen's ear.

"Run." Ytwomj suggested, then chuckled.

They ran, fleeing the sound of Owen's screams.

  


********

  


"Stop." Harmony said, three minutes later, then leaned against the wall, looking exhausted. "I think we've lost that demon."

Cordelia nodded. She didn't know what had happened to the building, but it had warped the corridors into a maze. Ytwomj would never be able to find them now, unless he could track by scent.

Xander skidded to a halt. "I think we've lost ourselves. Willow, you know about puzzles, mazes and stuff, how do we get out of here?"

"Um, right turns only, and we need something to mark the walls. Cordelia, have you got some lipstick?"

"Leave a trail?" Harmony said scornfully. "The demon will follow it. Um, I mean whichever of your loser friends is in that costume will."

Willow looked thoughtfully at Harmony. "Not a trail. We mark the corridors we've already tried, but there might not be an exit."

Cordelia passed Willow her lipstick. "Willow knows her stuff. Got your breath back, Harmony?"

When Harmony nodded Cordelia started walking, eager to find the exit before anything else went wrong.

  


****

  


At the next junction Cordelia waited while Willow marked the corridor they'd just come out of, then started walking down the right hand corridor.

"Is this your idea of fun now?" Harmony said, walking alongside Cordelia. "Willow might be useful, she can do your homework, but why Xander?"

Cordelia sighed. "We're stuck in a maze with a killer demon. Is this really the right time?"

Harmony smiled. "What? Not leaping to defend your new loser friends? Not surprising. What could you say?"

There were dozens of things Cordelia could say, but not in front of Harmony, not without alienating her permanently. Defending Xander or Willow would damage her social status, but not defending them would make it harder for Cordelia to work with them, harder for her to help them keep the world safe. Keeping everyone happy would be difficult, even for someone with Cordelia's superlative social skills.

Harmony looked at Cordelia, then laughed. "Nothing to say? That's not like you. You really have changed. Going in the library, hanging with losers; it's like you're a different person."

"A better person than you." Cordelia snapped, hoping she could divert Harmony onto a less sensitive subject. "I don't try to insult my friends in public." 

Harmony glanced dismissively at Xander and Willow. "They don't count. The only people here who count are me and you, and I'm not sure about you."

"Why did you wait for us then?" Xander asked casually. "You don't have to stay with us."

Harmony scowled at Xander. "If you think I'm going to wander off by myself when there's a demon around you must be even stupider than you look."

Xander smiled. "Demon?"

Harmony hesitated, looking uncertain, then smiled. "It must have been Buffy in that costume. That's why she made that lame excuse to get away from us. She's probably doing kinky stuff with Owen right now. I'm just surprised you didn't stay and watch."

Too furious to speak, Cordelia glared at Harmony. It would have been bad enough if Harmony had actually believed what she just said but that explanation was far too creative to be the result of unconscious denial. Harmony must have realised something supernatural was happening and consciously decided to adopt the ignore-it-and-maybe-it'll-go-away strategy, a decision Cordelia could understand. Harmony must be feeling terribly confused and frightened.

Cordelia might even have been able to sympathise with her if Harmony hadn't chosen such a despicable way to deny the truth. Harmony had to know Owen was being tortured to death, she'd heard his screams, and yet she had still smeared his memory in a vain attempt at denial then gone on to insult Cordelia herself. Cordelia hadn't seen such arrogant contempt for human feelings since her aunt last visited.

Harmony did not flinch beneath Cordelia's glare but just smiled coldly and asked, "What's up? Worried about your secrets getting out?"

Trembling with barely suppressed rage, Xander glared at Harmony. "We should have left her back there. She'd enjoy watching."

"Xander!" Willow protested. "Even Harmony is human, I think."

Cordelia smiled, amused by Willow's little jibe.

"Who said you could speak?" Harmony snapped.

Willow looked nervously at the walls, avoiding Harmony's gaze.

  


****

  


Twenty minutes and seven corridors later Harmony still appeared to be going for the gold medal in bitchiness.

Naturally, Cordelia had no trouble defending herself against Harmony's absurd slurs, and Xander was doing almost as well, but Willow seemed close to snapping. She'd spent the last five minutes mumbling under her breath and looking suspiciously at the walls.

Cordelia had to do something before Willow broke down. She might not like Willow, but she had earned the right not to. Harmony didn't even know who Willow was. She had no grievance, no right to hurt Willow's feelings. Nobody did, nobody except Cordelia. Besides, being nice to Willow would look good.

Cordelia gently tapped Willow on the shoulder and in her most reassuring tones quietly said "Don't let Harmony get to you. She's just nervous."

"Harmony?" Willow said, looking quizzically at Cordelia. Either she'd managed to completely forget about Harmony, which would be worrying, or she was an even better actress than Cordelia herself.

Willow smiled. "I'd forgotten about her. Have you noticed the tiles?"

Cordelia quickly looked at the wall, trying to see what might be worrying Willow. The tiles were all large blood-red octagons with a skull in the centre, definitely not part of the funeral home's normal decor, but they didn't look disturbing enough to distract Willow from Harmony.

Cordelia shrugged. "They redecorated when they twisted the corridors up. So?"

"The tiles are all octagonal, but that's impossible. You just can't fit three octagons around a single vertex."

Cordelia didn't see the problem, but if Willow said it was impossible she had to be right. "But what does it mean?"

Willow frowned. "Um, well, I'm not sure, but I don't like it. The tiles are shrinking too." 

"When you work out what's going on, tell us." Cordelia said, hoping that the distraction would keep Willow from being upset by Harmony.

"Great." Harmony said. "More corridors. Just what I wanted. Your sense of direction is almost as bad as your taste in clothes."

Cordelia looked up. Xander and Harmony had halted a dozen yards in front of her, at yet another T-junction.

Xander smiled. "Not very observant, are you? Look at the floor."

There was a large red arrow drawn on the floor, pointing from right to left. Cordelia walked slowly forwards, examining the arrow.

Harmony scowled. "Is Buffy stupid or what? Does she want that demon thing to find her?"

Xander looked sharply at Harmony. "The thing that that you think is Buffy in a costume? Tell me, when you speak does it make sense to you?"

"Um, well, that is..." Harmony looked away from Xander, stammering unconvincing explanations.

Willow glanced at the arrow, then frowned. "We don't know it's Buffy. It could be the demon, trying to lure us into a trap."

"Good thinking." Cordelia said, then knelt down to examine the arrow. "Looks like lipstick, and it's not sticky. Don't think it's blood."

Cordelia had seen enough blood spilt in her last year to write her name on every locker, she knew what it looked like, much as she wished otherwise.

Cordelia stood up and, ignoring Willow's poorly concealed suspicious expression, said "Ytwomj would have drawn the arrow in Owen's blood. Buffy did this. I say we follow the arrow."

  
"Buffy!" Willow shouted, ten minutes later.

Cordelia smiled as she turned the corner. Now that they'd finally found Giles and Buffy her problems would be over for the night. Between them Willow and Giles should be able to think of a faster way out of the building than trying every corridor, and if that demon did find them Buffy would soon kill it.

Buffy had been bent over Giles, but now she straightened up and smiled. "Guys! You found us. Great."

Harmony stopped talking in mid-sentence and looked nervously at Buffy.

Buffy hesitated, looking at the approaching group. "Guys, where's Owen?"

Willow looked uncertainly at Xander. "He's- ,he, um, he was- "

As Willow continued struggling for words, Xander looked glumly at Buffy. "You should sit down." 

"It's a long story." Cordelia interrupted, not wanting to explain that disaster.

This wasn't the right time or place. Buffy should find out about Owen later, when she was curled up in a comfortable chair with a tub of ice cream in her lap and her mother standing by with a boxful of tissues, not now, not leaning against the cold walls of a barren corridor while a demon stalked the building.

Besides, if they told Buffy now she might not fight so well. She'd still try to do her best, of course, but no one could do their best when their heart was weeping. No, the only sensible thing to do was to wait until everyone was safely home, then let Giles tell Buffy. If that made it easier for Cordelia to avoid thinking about Owen's death, well, that was a pleasant bonus.

Trying to think of something else to say, Cordelia looked at Giles. He was sitting on the floor, his face pale, his mouth set in a grimace of pain.

"What's up with him?" Cordelia asked, pointing at Giles. It looked like he'd been knocked out again. Perhaps Buffy had already killed the demon.

"Some weird magic trap." Buffy answered. "Never seen anything like it. We were walking along when he suddenly collapsed, just a bit that way. I didn't see anything but it felt like I was being strangled. I realised it had to be a trap so I dragged him back here and he came to. He's been groggy ever since. Where's Owen?"

Willow knelt down besides Giles. "What happened? What should we do? Shouldn't we, um, take your tie off?"

"No." Giles said weakly. "I'm fine."

Giles put one hand on Willow shoulder and pushed himself to his feet, then leaned against the wall, clearly exhausted by the effort.

"Just need a few moments more. Willow, look at the junction."

Cordelia looked. A dozen yards ahead eight corridors met, each at right angles to the next. She couldn't see anything strange, just perfectly normal empty corridors, but she swiftly began to feel dizzy. There was definitely something weird there, but Cordelia had no idea what.

"Seven-hundred and twenty degrees!" Willow exclaimed. "That's the worst I've seen."

"Spatial distortion." Giles said, his voice almost back to normal. "A common side effect of summoning spells, but not on this scale."

Xander frowned. "Can we have that in English?"

Willow smiled. "There are eight corridors here, and all the corners are right angles. That's impossible."

"Nonsense." Harmony sneered. "It's happened. How can it be impossible?"

"Space has gone non-Euclidean." Giles said. "It's been warped."

Willow nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Does it matter?" Cordelia asked. She knew it must, or Giles wouldn't have mentioned it, but sometimes he needed prompting to get to the point.

Buffy nodded. "I don't care about math. Just tell me where Owen is."

"It matters." Giles replied "There are too many angles round each point because extra space has been squeezed into this building, space from which ever unholy realm whatever was summoned came from, an effect that is rarely noticeable and never this strong."

"Yetwonge came from the hell of endless corridors?" Xander said, looking even more confused than normal by Giles's explanation.

"No." Giles said, then hesitated, looking surprised. "Yetwonge? You saw -"

"Ytwomj." Cordelia said, correcting Xander's mispronunciation. If they didn't get the name right Giles might start giving them completely useless information about a different demon. "Or it might have been that shadow thing that did it. That was ..."

Cordelia hesitated, struggling for words strong enough to describe that monstrosity. "Worse, the worst."

Willow nodded, her face paling as she remembered. "It was ... other, vile, dread incarnate."

Xander looked at the floor, his voice trembling. "It felt worse than when Amy's mom did her stuff to me, much worse."

Harmony smiled. "It was just shadows, nothing important. Let's stop wasting time and get out of here."

"We could be trapped in here for days." Giles said. "Time isn't a problem."

"Days!" Harmony exclaimed. "Impossible! This building isn't that big."

"That's our first problem. The summoning squeezed extra space into this building, space which then formed a distorted mirror of the original architecture, but that extra space has made this building bigger on the inside than the outside, much bigger. The exit could be three days walk away, or three weeks."

"Three weeks? And I only brought one Twinky bar." Xander joked, but he still looked troubled.

"That's not the only problem. Fortunately, most of the spatial distortion seems to be concentrated in the walls, or we'd be ripped to shreds, but in the areas where it's strongest, like this junction, it must be leaking into the air. That's what I think knocked me out."

"How?" Willow asked, obviously fascinated. Cordelia couldn't see why. Half of what Giles had just said was unintelligible but one thing was clear. As long as they avoided the warped areas they'd be safe and that was all that mattered right now. Willow should wait to satisfy her curiosity until later, when the emergency was over.

"Imagine what it would be like if your body was bigger on the inside than the outside." Giles said. "You'd look normal to other people but your heart might be two yards from your brain, which would kill you. I think that's what happened to Buffy and me. Fortunately I passed out before the spatial distortion reached lethal levels, and Buffy is more resilient, but had I fallen forwards I would have died."

Harmony looked anxiously at Buffy, then relaxed and yawned ostentatiously. "Get to the point, librarian."

Giles's left eyebrow twitched. "This building is now a maze in a minefield. Running through these corridors will only get us killed. We need to sit and think about our predicament. Would you rather talk for a few hours, or walk for three weeks knowing that at any moment you might be pureed by an unexpected spatial distortion?"

"We'll talk," Buffy said firmly, "about Owen. Where is he?"

Cordelia looked at Xander, trying to think of a way to make him give Buffy the bad news.

Xander looked nervously at Willow, then sighed. "In the room where you left us. There was this demon."

"What happened!" Buffy demanded.

Harmony smiled. "Your friends left Owen alone with some psycho in a rubber mask. They didn't even try to rescue him."

"That demon threw Xander around like a toy," Willow said defensively, "and you were the first to leave."

"A demon?" Buffy gasped. "There was a demon?"

Harmony briefly looked uncertain, then rallied. 

"I am a respectable girl," Harmony said, her posture radiating injured dignity. "I don't know how to fight but you're in Buffy's gang. In the last few weeks you've trashed the Bronze, blown up the science lab, and burned down a teacher's house."

Cordelia stiffened. The fire in the giant bug's lair had been a complete accident, and how did Harmony know they'd been involved anyway?

Harmony looked directly at Buffy. "I thought they knew how to fight. Didn't you bother teaching them?"

"Only Buffy can fight demons." Giles said, looking curiously at Harmony. "What can you tell me about Ytwomj?"

"He was fast and strong, with just one eye." Xander said, sticking to a purely physical description.

"At first, he thought we'd summoned him. He said he'd come back from the dead." Willow paused, looking thoughtful. "It must have been that shadow demon. There was already a human corpse in the other room, but the demon dropped a brick on it and the corpse turned into Ytwomj."

Willow stopped and looked tenderly at Buffy. "Ytwomj, um, he ... You might want to sit down." 

"Why did you leave Owen behind?" Buffy asked, "Is he hurt?"

He was, but telling Buffy that would only upset her. Instead Cordelia looked at Willow.

"A brick? I saw an apple."

Willow nodded, then. "The tree. I saw that too, briefly, but -"

"Is it still here?" Giles interrupted, sounding tense.

"No. The water scared the black fire away." Xander said, then frowned. "Is it me, or has this been a really weird night?"

Giles smiled, looking relieved. "Even by Sunnydale standards, it's been an unusual night, but I think the worst is over."

"Giles!" Xander scolded. "What did you say that for. It's the ultimate jinx. Now something worse is going to happen."

Harmony scowled back. "I'm stuck in an endless maze with a demon and you freaks. This night can't get any worse."

"Xander is not a freak." Cordelia protested. He was the most normal person in the corridor. Harmony had no right to attack him, or anyone else.

"He's Buffy's friend. He's got to be a freak, just like you are."

Her patience exhausted, Cordelia spun on her heals and smiled at Harmony. The girl had done nothing all night but get in the way and bitch at everyone. Cordelia had been willing to make allowances for Harmony's nerves, but enough was enough. Nobody had ever talked to Cordelia like that, not even her aunt, and she wouldn't tolerate it now.

"A demon, you say. So you don't still think Ytwomj was Buffy in a mask?"

Buffy looked sharply at Harmony. "You thought I was a demon?"

"Why not? You left the room and Ytwomj entered. It's a perfectly natural conclusion."

Cordelia smiled broadly, and moved in for the kill. "Even after you saw what Ytwomj was doing to Owen?"

"Owen?" Buffy echoed. "What happened to him? He's dead, isn't he? Why won't anyone tell me?"

Cordelia winced. She'd been so angry with Harmony she had forgotten Buffy was still listening. Now it wouldn't be possible to put off telling Buffy any longer, so Cordelia would just have to think of a gentle way of breaking the news.

Cordelia turned to face Buffy and quietly said. "I hope so."

Buffy looked shocked but Cordelia pressed on. If she told the story right, Buffy wouldn't get sad, she'd get angry. Cordelia need to be careful Buffy didn't blame her though. 

"Owen was being tortured. If Owen is still alive he'll be wishing he was dead."

Buffy gasped.

Willow instantly stepped over to Buffy and hugged her. "I didn't know how to tell you."

Buffy nodded uncomprehendingly, then glared furiously at Harmony. "You thought I could -"

Smiling, Harmony looked at Buffy. "Why not? Everyone knows you're weird."

Willow's eyes widened. "That wasn't a yes. If you really believed that Buffy could do such things you wouldn't say so to her face. You made it up, didn't you?"

Harmony leaned against the wall and started looking at her nails. "What if I did?"

"Then you have forfeited all claims on our sympathy." Giles stated flatly.

Buffy punched the wall. "Cordy, tell your friend that if she doesn't shut up I'll -"

"You'll what?" Harmony asked. "You aren't allowed to hurt people."

Giles smiled menacingly. "Buffy isn't."

Xander looked uneasily at Giles then nodded. "You need us. We don't need you. If you want our help, act like it. If you want to bitch and moan, go and find the demon. Five minutes in your company and he'll kill himself."

"I don't care what you think." Harmony said. "You owe me, all of you. Ever since I, um, since Buffy arrived bad things have been happening to me."

"What things?" Cordelia asked. Nothing unusual had happened to Harmony before now. Nothing unusual should ever have happened to her, making this more proof that something else was meddling with history.

Harmony looked disbelievingly at Cordelia. 

"You made me touch a corpse." Harmony began heatedly. "You got me int-"

Harmony stopped midword, looking panicked. "I mean, you made me touch a, um, horse. You got me in trouble, so much trouble. I could have died, but death means nothing to you. You don't care if you die. There'll always be another puppet. You don't care about my suffering, about my pain. Three weeks I've suffered, while you wear my shoes. Buffy should have killed you, but Giles won't talk so you walk. Xander gets the red carpet, but you lock me out. Three weeks, until I found the exit. Three weeks of hell, and then this. It was, it was ..."

Still mumbling bizarre grievances, Harmony stared at the floor, seemingly on the verge of tears.

Cordelia frowned. Harmony might have had a bad night, but that was no excuse for a nervous breakdown, or her earlier intolerable behaviour. Cordelia had had bad nights herself, but no one had ever seen her break down, not in public. Harmony didn't have Cordelia's inner strength, but she should still have been able to cope better than this, assuming it had only been one bad night.

Perhaps it hadn't. Harmony had hardly mentioned tonight's fiasco; she kept going on about three weeks, the same amount of time as Buffy had been in Sunnydale, and Harmony's complaints had absolutely no basis in reality, as far as Cordelia knew. She would have like to believe Harmony was simply deluded, but this was Sunnydale. It was just as likely something weird had been happening to Harmony for weeks without Cordelia noticing a thing.

Ignoring everyone else, Cordelia looked straight at Harmony. Whatever had happened to her, she had clearly suffered, and Harmony was supposed to be her friend. Seeing her like this was making Cordelia feel uncomfortable; she had to do something.

Wearing her most understanding smile, Cordelia advanced on Harmony, her arms outstretched to deliver a reassuring hug. She could punish Harmony's insolence later; right now the girl needed sympathy.

Harmony looked up, then stiffened. "Stay away from me. You've had your fun. Now it's my turn."

Harmony smiled, her posture oozing rabid fury. "You are going to pay. You will pay and pay again, in blood and pain, until justice has been done. You will-"

Harmony paused, then laughed unconvincingly. "Only joking. Where's your sense of humour?"

Xander glared at her. "Where's the joke?"

Harmony sighed. "This place is getting on my nerves. I may have been a little touchy, but it doesn't mean anything. Tomorrow we can both forget it ever happened. Tonight, I think it's best if we just ignore each other, or someone might get hurt."

Willow nodded.

Harmony walked five yards down the corridor, away from the junction, then sat down with her back to Cordelia.

Buffy glared after her. "I'm not going to forget, not after what she said."

Cordelia nodded. It would be interesting talking to Harmony tomorrow; to compare her polite smile with tonight's frenzied ranting.

Giles rubbed his forehead. "Could we concentrate on what's urgent. Cordelia, can you tell me anything else about Ytwomj?"

  


****

  


Five minutes later Giles was still asking questions, trying to work out what was going on.

"You're sure he said three?"

Willow nodded. "Is that bad?"

Giles nodded, his face ashen. 

"The hand of glory is an instrument of darkest magic. Its greatest power is to open any lock, physical or metaphysical. If the Master had one it would give him the power to escape his mystical prison, or to enter any house he chose, uninvited. If it should have taken three such to summon Ytwomj he must either be extremely powerful, or have been long dead."

"So, who's Glory?" Xander asked, smiling. "How many hands does she have?"

Giles shook his head. "No, the hand of glory is so named because it is made from a murderer's corpse-"

Buffy looked impatiently at Giles.

"In a highly complex procedure you don't need to know how to perform." Giles continued smoothly. "The significant point is that, since it did the summoning without the hands, this shadow creature you saw must be of godlike power."

Cordelia shivered, remembering the sight of the shadow tree. It hadn't looked like any god she'd ever heard of but she couldn't argue with Giles.

"So what?" Buffy asked, "They said it ran away."

"It might come back. We must keep watch for unnatural shadows. If it returns, we will run."

Cordelia frowned. She was sure what Giles was saying was important, but it wasn't exactly urgent.

"That shadow thing's gone. Ytwomj is -"

"Here." Ytwomj said, stepping around the corner, his hands behind his back.

Harmony quickly stood up and retreated behind Buffy.

Giles tilted his head slightly and looked thoughtfully at the demon. "A suspiciously timely entrance."

After a moment's thought Cordelia realised what Giles meant. The demon must have been lurking just out of sight, waiting until it could make a dramatic entry. It was like she'd told Giles. Ytwomj was arrogant, and not just by human standards either.

"Ytwomj." Buffy snapped, her voice radiating cold fury. "Ready to die?"

"Buffy, remember what Cordelia said." Giles said, seemingly unruffled by the demon's presence. "You can use that against him."

Ytwomj smiled. "So this is Buffy? I do believe I have something of yours."

Cordelia could guess what. She quickly looked at Xander, not wanting that to be her last memory of Owen.

"He cursed you with his dying breath."

Buffy gasped.

"Would you care for an eyeball?" Ytwomj asked.

Speechless with rage, Buffy launched herself at Ytwomj, running towards him at eye-blurring speed.

Ytwomj chuckled, then Cordelia heard something break.

Willow paled in sudden horror, her knees trembling.

"That's...." Giles gasped, his shock tinged by fear.

"Don't look." Xander said, his face grimly pale, as he gently turned Willow's face away from Buffy.

Despite her fears, Cordelia could not resist looking. She didn't want to see what had so shocked Willow, but she had to know.

Buffy was just thirty feet away, flat on her back, a handful of shattered bones on her breast. In front of her a trail of blood and gore stretched for perhaps twenty feet, petering out less than ten feet from the corner where Ytwomj still stood.

Realising what must have happened, Cordelia groaned. Ytwomj must have thrown Owen's head at Buffy so hard that it hadn't just knocked her off her feet, it had actually splattered, making him stronger than any vampire Cordelia had ever seen. Buffy should still be able to win the fight, she was a slayer, but it wouldn't be easy.

Buffy sprang to her feet, instinctively moved to wipe the mess from her front, then recoiled in disgust. While Ytwomj watched, clearly amused, Buffy gently peeled the blood-soaked fragments of skull from her top and placed them on the floor, then glared at Ytwomj, quivering with doubled fury.

"You're so going to pay for that." Buffy stated flatly. "You'll wish you'd-"

In mid sentence Buffy leapt towards Ytwomj, presumably hoping to take him by surprise.

Ytwomj sidestepped her kick, grabbing her ankle as it passed by his hip, then yanked hard, pulling Buffy off her feet, leaving her dangling from his outstretched arm, upside-down, her hair brushing the floor. Buffy immediately punched Ytwomj in the groin, making Xander wince, but Ytwomj just started giggling

"You must be a slayer," the demon said, stating the obvious, "almost a worthy opponent."

Buffy grabbed Ytwomj's right knee in both hands then began to twist, dislocating it. Ytwomj smiled, dropped Buffy, then stumbled back around the corner, rubbing his knee. Buffy bounced to her feet and went after him.

Cordelia looked at Giles. "Can she win?" 

"Cordy!" Xander protested. "She always wins. She's the slayer, remember, with super strength and everything."

"She can still die." Giles replied. "Ytwomj seems much stronger than her, though maybe less skilled."

Buffy retreated back into view, trading blows with Ytwomj.

Giles watched the fight, frowning intently. "Maybe more skilled. It looks like he's toying with her. He has proven himself strong enough to shatter all Buffy's ribs with just one blow, but he's only giving her gentle taps, barely enough to bruise her."

"Great." Harmony said. "We're trapped between an invincible demon and a, um, a weird angle thing. Cordelia, you got me into this. How will you get us out?"

Cordelia faked a smile. She would pay back Harmony for her slurs later; right now all that mattered was staying alive.

"Harmony, dear, I didn't know you thought so highly of me but I haven't been fighting demons long. Giles is the one you need to ask."

"Well, librarian," Harmony said, her tone imperious. "You know magic. Do something. Make him a frog."

Giles sighed. "I know about magic but I don't have that kind of power."

"But the demon doesn't know that." Willow said. "Can't you bluff him?"

Cordelia smiled, pleased to see Willow had recovered from her shock.

"Bluffing hardly ever works. Most demons are too stupid to be scared off by threats, however convincing."

Cordelia nodded. Darla had believed her bluff but attacked anyway.

"Got a better idea?" Harmony said sharply.

"He doesn't know how he was summoned here." Willow reminded Giles. "You could claim the credit."

Giles hesitated, then nodded. "We don't have time to think of anything better."

Giles straightened his tie, then began calmly walking towards Ytwomj.

"Enough." Giles said curtly. "The slayer is mine, and so are you."

Ytwomj turned his head to look at Giles, fending Buffy off with just one hand.

"I summoned you by force of will alone. You are mine. Obey me in all things or face the wrath of Abrasax."

"No!" Ytwomj screamed. "Not that!"

In one smooth move Ytwomj snatched up Buffy and hurled her fifty feet down the corridor, knocking Giles over, then turned and ran.

Willow smiled. "Giles, that was wonderful. I won't dare keep my library books overdue now, not that I ever do."

Buffy untangled herself from Giles and sprang to her feet. "Where'd the demon go? I'll-"

Buffy paused abruptly, staring at something behind Cordelia. "I don't think it was Giles that frightened him."

Cordelia turned to look, then groaned.  
  
A wall of shimmering light was oozing down two of the opposite corridors.

"What is it?" Willow quietly asked, backing away from the advancing light. "Good or bad? It scared Ytwomj but does that mean it's good or just that its more powerful than him?"

Giles stared blankly at the light then sighed. "Willow, I haven't the foggiest."

Xander looked at Cordelia. "Now, that really was frightening."

  


****

  


"Are you sure this is safe?" Harmony said, scowling at Giles. "Couldn't you think of a better plan?"

"You've already asked that." Buffy said sharply, glaring at Harmony. "Shut up and let Giles think."

Cordelia pulled Harmony away before she could provoke Buffy further. "You can see how slow it is. We'll have plenty of time if we need to run."

Personally, Cordelia would rather have run, but she wasn't going to let anyone see her agreeing with Harmony, not after the things she'd said. Still, she was sure Giles knew what he was doing and what he'd said about getting stuck in a dead end made sense. If he thought they needed a better idea what the weird light was he had to be right, didn't he?

Giles walked towards the light, showing no signs of nerves. 

Cordelia took another look at the advancing light, then inched backwards. If she did have to run, which she was sure she wouldn't, the further she started from that weird light the better.

Two feet from the light, Giles stopped and looked thoughtfully at it, then pulled something out of his pocket. Cordelia couldn't see what it was, not with Giles's body in the way, but he seemed to be swinging it around and chanting.

Xander looked at Willow, who was staring anxiously at Giles, then smiled at Cordelia. "Bet you're wishing we'd stayed in the Bronze."

Cordelia smiled back, glad for the distraction. "And had to spend the night with Harmony?"

Willow smiled as Buffy looked at Harmony then said "Tough choice."

Giles turned around, clutching his anti-ghost amulet, and Cordelia suppressed a sigh of relief. Giles seemed concerned, but not actually frightened, so the light couldn't be anything too dangerous. 

"Have you all got your amulets?" Giles asked, walking back towards them.

Everyone nodded, except Harmony.

"That tacky thing you gave Cordelia?" Harmony asked. "Why would I want one?"

"To keep soul and body together." Giles said.

He looked briefly thoughtful, then bent down and pulled some holy water out of his weapons bag.

"This should work for long enough. When you start hearing voices try to ignore them." Giles said, dipping his finger into the water. "Hold still."

Using the holy water, Giles quickly drew a six-pointed star on Harmony's forehead.

Willow looked at Giles. "What is it? Another ghost? That'd make sense because-"

"Not one ghost." Giles said, cutting Willow off mid-babble. "A myriad. This is a soulstorm."

"A what?" Xander asked, pulling his amulet out of his pocket.

"One of the hazards of necromancy." Giles explained. "Sometimes, when the spells go badly wrong, thousands of human souls can be pulled back into this world. Fortunately, soulstorms are both rare and short-lived."

"But why did Ytwomj run away? He can't be scared of ghosts?" Willow asked, looking nervously at the soulstorm.

"If the souls are in suitable bodies when the storm ends, they can stay in this world. Ytwomj's body is definitely suitable. The ghosts will attempt to possess him, and everything else within range."

"But we've got protection, right?" Willow said, fingering her amulet. "But-"

Cordelia nodded, then swiftly interrupted. She still had plans to take revenge on Xander, when the time was right, but they wouldn't work if she let herself be sidelined so she had to seize every opportunity to make herself look good, though not suspiciously good.

"There are other bodies in the building." Cordelia said.

Buffy nodded. "And Owen."

"Owen's safe." Giles said quickly. "He was decapitated, which prevents possession. You won't have to kill his corpse."

"But the rest of them will be rising." Cordelia concluded. "We'll be safer inside the soulstorm."

Outside the soulstorm there were walking corpses, the order of Aurelius, and Ytwomj. Inside the soulstorm, everything they met would be running away. It might not be safe, but by hellmouth standards it was safe enough. Besides, they didn't have any choice. The soulstorm was only a foot behind Giles now, and getting closer.

"Actually, since all the souls were human-"

Cordelia blinked, briefly dazzled, as Giles's amulet burst into brilliant golden light.

Willow just watched, clearly fascinated, as the soulstorm oozed around Giles, but Xander and Harmony both took a quick step backwards.

Cordelia looked carefully at Giles. The soulstorm hadn't actually touched him, it had just flowed around the edges of his amulet's light, and he still looked calm, so it had to be safe.

Cordelia shrugged then, holding her amulet high, stepped into the soulstorm, barely trembling at all.

The moment before she crossed the soulstorm's edge her amulet began to glow with a steady golden light, forcing the ghosts aside., leaving her inside a ten-foot wide bubble of golden light.

Giles looked at her. "You may have been more right than I thought. Look at the ghosts."

There were thousands of them, hovering just outside the golden light, staring hungrily at Cordelia, but not one of them looked human.

"What about them?" Cordelia asked, wondering why Giles couldn't cut straight to the point.

Two more amulets burst into light as the soulstorm washed over Xander and Willow.

"Wow!" Willow gasped, watching the ghosts swirl around her. "It's beautiful, all those colours, like a swarm of butterflies."

Buffy stepped into the soulstorm, pulling Harmony behind her.

Harmony winced as the golden light of Buffy's amulet hit her skin, then scowled. "You think this is safe?"

"Safe from demons." Cordelia said. "Ytwomj won't come in here."

"The amulets should protect us from the ghosts," Giles added, "and you have some protection too."

Cordelia nodded. The star Giles had drawn on Harmony's forehead was glowing, a dim blue light barely visible in the golden aura of the amulets, but enough to show it was working.

"We're just going to sit here and wait for the bad guys to go away?" Xander asked impatiently.

"No," Giles said firmly, "but charging blindly round the corridors won't get us anywhere."

"What about magic?" Willow asked. "Can't you just zap us out?"

Cordelia smiled, knowing what Giles's reply would be. Willow had been fascinated by the thought of magic long before she started doing it though Cordelia couldn't see why. In her experience, magic always caused more problems than it solved.

"I don't have that kind of power and, even if I did, we're inside a spatial anomaly. Teleport from here and you would be smeared across several continents."

Giles looked at Willow, who was looking understandably depressed, and softened his tone. "That is the right approach though. The most important thing is to get out of here. After that we can do something about Ytwomj and the soulstorm but we can't walk out of here, so we have to think outside the box."

Xander look puzzled. "You mean go through the ceiling?"

Cordelia smiled, pleased to see Xander could still joke. At least, she hoped he was only joking.

Willow looked briefly amused, then thoughtful. "We haven't seen the roof, and gravity isn't weird. Could that work?"

Looking surprised Giles nodded. "The spatial distortion does seem to be vertically stratified and there is ample precedent for it to be confined to the interior of the affected building. None of those cases were ..."

Cordelia stopped listening. Giles was talking for himself now, just thinking aloud, but the details didn't matter. Xander's idea might actually work. Explanations could wait.

Buffy looked at Willow and rhetorically asked, "Do you understand that?"

Willow hesitated, then nodded. "We haven't seen any bits of sewer or roof caught up in this weird angle stuff so they might be unaffected. Gravity hasn't done anything weird so that means the roof is probably still above us not underneath."

"And how are we going to get through the ceiling?" Harmony asked, her tone scathing. "I didn't bring a pickaxe with me. I thought I was going to have a normal night."

Xander smiled. "Buffy can just punch a hole in the ceiling."

"I'm not that strong!" Buffy protested.

Giles smiled "You'll need at least half an hour."

"I can help."

"Let me."

"No, let me."

More ghosts joined the chorus, all of them promising to help, offering to do anything. It was a tempting sight, an army of ghosts begging her for orders, but Cordelia didn't believe them for a moment. Things were never that easy.

One ghost, brighter than the rest, forced its way to the front of the crowd and looked directly at Cordelia.

"Please, do me just one favour and I shall serve you for all eternity."

"No!" Giles cried. "He wants your body."

"I know." Cordelia said, "I can remember yesterday."

Giles had already told them all about that loophole, at great length. If Cordelia gave a ghost permission to possess her the amulet would be powerless to stop it, and ghosts had a very flexible interpretation of permission. Knowing she was completely safe in the aura of the amulet Cordelia looked at the ghost, a three-horned monstrosity with needle sharp teeth. 

"I wouldn't date you if you were alive. Go away."

The ghost roared then sank its claws into its neighbours, who started to struggle.

Giles watched, clearly fascinated. The three-horned ghost was getting brighter, but its victims were fading away.

"I've read accounts of this, " Giles said, "but I-"

Giles hesitated. "Cordelia, you shouldn't have teased the ghost."

"Why not? We've got the amulets." 

"They don't provide complete protection."

Its original victims reduced to sparks, the three-horned ghost reached out again and began sucking the light from something that appeared to be half-cat and half-octopus. The other ghosts backed away, leaving a ring of empty air around the three-horned ghost.

"I know." Cordelia reminded Giles. "But I didn't invite it in."

"Not that." Giles said, rummaging in his weapons bag. "The amulets are strong, but they have limits. A strong enough ghost could brush them aside like tissue paper."

Xander looked nervously around. ""And you didn't mention this because?"

"There shouldn't be ghosts that strong, not even in a soulstorm. It's against the oldest rules."

"So," Harmony demanded, "what's the problem?"

Giles pulled a knife out of his bag. "Demon ghosts break the very same rules."

Cordelia looked at the ghost and swallowed nervously. That was most definitely a demon ghost.

"On the positive side," Giles continued, "that does mean we don't have to obey the rules either. It's safe to attack these ghosts with the amulets."

Cordelia grimaced. So it was only safe to hurt ghosts that were too strong to be hurt. That was just typical.

Its third donor extinguished, the ghost pointed at Cordelia. "Living or dead, you shall be mine."

Cordelia looked at Giles. "Do something." 

"I am." Giles said sharply. "Anyone got a mirror?"

Cordelia quickly tossed him her makeup mirror.

The ghost hesitated, then stepped inside the amulets' glow.

From each of the amulets a beam of golden light lanced out, striking the ghost.

Under the impact of that pure light the ghost began to fade but it still struggled on, slowly moving towards Cordelia.

Giles cut his right ring finger with the knife

Buffy quickly wrapped her fist around her amulet, then punched the ghost.

The ghost screamed as the amulet passed through it, then turned to face Buffy.

Holding Cordelia's mirror in his left hand, Giles began writing on his forehead, in his own blood.

"Osiris can not save you," the ghost said. "He has no power here."

That was obviously a lie. The amulets weren't working very well, but they still had enough power to make the ghost scream.

Giles drew a second letter on his forehead, in an alphabet Cordelia didn't recognise., then started chanting in a strange language.

Cordelia hesitated then decided to attack the ghost. It wasn't as though she had anything to lose, and it would look good.

The ghost plunged one hand into Buffy's head, then groped inside her chest with the other.

Buffy whimpered once, then clenched her jaw and pushed her amulet into the ghost's head.

Giles drew a third letter on his forehead.

Cordelia gripped her amulet tightly and pushed it into the ghost. Beside her, Willow and Xander did the same.

The ghost screamed, then twisted its hand in Buffy's head.

Buffy shuddered as her face began to bleed, blood oozing from every pore.

Cordelia looked impatiently at Giles. "Hurry up. Buffy hasn't got long.

As Giles drew the fourth letter, all four began to glow.

The ghost smiled; its light strengthening as it sucked Buffy dry. "You're too late."

"Stop!" Giles shouted, pointing at the ghost.

The ghost looked at Giles.

"Go now!" Giles commanded, "Or face the final judge."

The ghost pulled away from Buffy and reared up. "I fear nothing."

Breathing heavily, Buffy wiped the blood from her face.

Giles smiled. "Yod. Het. Vov. Het." 

The instant Giles spoke the fourth word his head vanished in a ball of white fire.

Cordelia blinked, surprised.

A stream of white flames ran down Giles's outstretched arm.

Cordelia stepped sideways, out of the line of fire, dragging Xander with her.

Buffy grabbed Willow, who was watching Giles with wide-eyed fascination, and hustled her to the far wall.

A torrent of white flame blasted out of Giles's hand, racing down the corridor.

The three-horned ghost didn't even have time to struggle before it was ripped apart by the white fire. One moment it loomed tall, swollen with stolen power, the next there were only a few scattered wisps of light, swiftly consumed in the flames.

The other ghosts turned to flee, but the torrent swept on, overwhelming them all.

Harmony smiled. "Someone point him at the ceiling."

Cordelia did not move. Harmony's suggestion might work, but she didn't want to get too close to those flames.

The ghosts behind Giles retreated, showing a surprising amount of common sense for demons.

Buffy gingerly reached out and nudged Giles's left elbow, the one that wasn't on fire.

The flames vanished.

Giles groaned once, then collapsed.

He still looked all right, his skin completely unscarred, but his face was haggard.

"Why did you stop?" Harmony demanded, shaking his shoulder.

"Harmony!" Buffy snapped, pulling her away.

Willow knelt down by Giles, reached out to touch him, then hesitated. "Shouldn't we loosen his tie?"

"I'm fine." Giles said, opening his eyes, but his voice was weak.

"What happened?" Willow asked. "You looked wonderful."

Giles adjusted his glasses. "I saw myself."

"Cryptic much?" Harmony said scornfully. "If you must waste time with explanations, talk sense."

Giles looked nervously at the floor. "I saw myself as I really am, shorn of all self delusion. I saw all my many failures, all my past sins. If you knew how much blood was on my hands..."

Cordelia shuddered, imagining how it would feel if she saw herself that clearly. She'd never hurt anyone, unless they'd deserved it, but she knew she wasn't perfect. There had been mistakes in her past, minor errors of judgement best forgotten. Having them dragged up by some spell would not be pleasant.

Giles fell briefly silent, then looked straight at Harmony. "Pray you never see yourself so clearly."

"It wouldn't bother me." Harmony replied, but she didn't sound convincing.

Xander smiled. "How bad can it be? You're a librarian. So you misplaced a few books, it's no biggie. We don't mind."

Cordelia knew better. Giles had been a real hellraiser once, literally. He certainly had a lot to regret, but he'd more than made up for it since.

Buffy and Willow nodded, then started trying to reassure Giles, but Cordelia knew they didn't stand a chance, not when they didn't know what the problem really was. She would have to reassure him herself, letting him know she wasn't bothered by his Ripper days without letting him know she knew about them.

"We don't care what you did when you were young." Cordelia said. "Not even if you turrned all your teachers into rats or seduced girls with black magic. It doesn't matter who you were. All that matters is who you are now."

Seeing that Giles still looked doubtful, Cordelia decided to divert his attention with a quick question.

"Why the trip down memory lane anyway? Wasn't the spell supposed to hurt the ghosts, not you?"

Giles sighed. "I invoked one of the Powers That Be, by name, but I am not worthy to channel, um, the triune Power. That is why I suffered for my hubris."

"Um," Willow said, looking at something behind Cordelia. "Do you think you could do it again?"

Cordelia turned and looked behind her. 

The ghosts were creeping back.

Giles went pale. "Maybe, once or twice, but no more."

"Then get us out of this soulstorm. We should have stayed outside it." Harmony said.

"With all the topological distortions in this building it's likely that the soul storm had already surrounded us before we saw it. The ceiling is our best option."

"It's built to resist earthquakes." Buffy protested.

"It's not built to resist spatial distortion." Giles replied. "It should have been weakened."

He pulled a small axe out of his weapons bag, then stood up and passed it to Buffy. "Stand on Harmony's shoulders and you should be able to break through within an hour."

"But what about the ghosts?" Willow asked.

"The amulets will deter most of them, and it should be a while before any of them gather the strength and courage to risk facing me."

  


****

  


  
Cordelia suppressed a cough as the dust billowed down around her.

"Keep still." Buffy snapped.

"Well, excuse me." Harmony said flatly. "I'm not a freak. I can't breathe dust."

Cordelia frowned. Buffy had a foot on her shoulder too, but was she complaining? No, she knew better. Any disturbance and Buffy might loose her balance. Cordelia really didn't want that, not with Buffy carrying a sharp axe.

Giles sighed. "It won't be much longer. We just need to make the hole a little bigger."

Cordelia relaxed slightly. She'd been beginning to wonder if she'd ever get out of the building.

"We haven't got much longer." Harmony protested.

Xander looked at Willow, who was staring nervously at the ghosts, then forced a smile. "Don't worry. We've got Giles."

Willow did not look convinced, and with good reason. Giles had already cast his special anti-ghost spell twice; he might not survive a third attempt, not when the second casting had left him catatonic for ten minutes.

"Great," Harmony said. "Now I feel a lot better. If Giles is so great, why are we still here?"

Cordelia smiled, spotting an opening.

"Without Giles, we wouldn't still be here," she said. "We'd be dead."

A chunk of wood fell from the ceiling, followed by a shower of plaster.

Buffy jumped down, then turned and looked at Willow. "Think you can fit through there?"

Harmony looked up and smiled. "I can. I don't know about you guys."

"How are we getting up?" Willow asked.

"Buffy should go first." Giles said. "She can jump up, then pull the rest of us after her."

"One other question." Harmony said, smiling. "How are we getting off the roof?"

  


****

  


Two minutes later Buffy reached down through the hole, grabbed Cordelia and pulled her onto the roof.

Cordelia rubbed her shoulder, looked around, then smiled. It seemed most of the ghosts were too stupid to go through the ceiling, which wasn't surprising for ex-demons. There were only a few dozen visible, oozing out of the roof then hurrying away.

The roof was dimly lit by the moonlight, but Cordelia could just make out Harmony and Willow.

Ignoring Harmony, Cordelia walked over to where Willow was standing, looking out over the town.

"How will we get down?" Cordelia asked, smiling gently.

She might not like Willow but she needed her friendship, for now.

Willow glanced at Cordelia, clearly worried. "We've got bigger problems. Look down there."

Cordelia looked down at the town, trying to see what was bothering Willow, and frowned.

"Mass arson?" Cordelia said. "Great. Another demon to look for."

She could see at least twelve fires, just looking straight ahead, and with her recent luck there would be more fires on the other sides of the building. This was yet another thing that shouldn't have happened, more proof that something would need to be done. It might not be a big thing, not compared with the soulstorm, but it was a change she hadn't authorised and that made it completely unacceptable.

"I meant look straight down." Willow said. "I think those are zombies."

"Zombies?" Xander said, coming up behind Cordelia. "Where?"

Cordelia carefully knelt down at the edge of the roof and looked straight down.

The walls of the building were glowing, probably because of the soulstorm inside, and by that light Cordelia could see human shapes walking towards the building, and demons running away from it. She couldn't be completely certain, but the human shapes certainly looked a lot like the zombies Cordelia had seen before, and there was a faint scent of decay drifting up from them.

"Buffy can kill them all." Xander said.

"Not if she wants any sleep." Cordelia noted.

"Hey!" Buffy shouted. "Someone, come and hold my legs while I get Giles."

Xander smiled, and hurried to obey.

Below Cordelia a zombie touched the building wall, then jerked as if electrocuted. Its eyes flashed a sickly green, then it stepped away from the wall. Its body shimmered slightly, then changed, growing horns and tentacles. The new demon turned and hurried away from the building.

"That's our problem." Willow said. "Something must be calling zombies here for the demon ghosts to possess."

Cordelia shuddered, wondering how many demons had escaped already. "We have to tell Giles."

She turned around and walked back towards Buffy, followed by Willow.

Xander was holding Buffy by the ankles while she dangled inside the hole.

"We can just jump off the roof." Willow said, answering Cordelia's earlier question

Cordelia looked sceptically at Willow. "Won't it hurt?"

"Buffy can catch us. The roofs only about thirty feet high, which means we'd normally hit the ground at around thirty miles an hour but Buffy can roll with the impact, so thirty feet at one gee will be countered by, say, ten gees over three or so feet. We shouldn't break any bones."

"That's reassuring." Cordelia said, watching Giles climb up Buffy. "We didn't do that."

Willow smiled. "We had someone to give us a leg up."

Giles clambered onto the roof then turned around to help pull Buffy out of the hole.

Buffy brushed herself down then smiled. "Now we've just got to get off the roof."

"Um, no." Willow said, looking apologetic, then began to explain the zombie problem.

As Giles listened he began to look worried.

Xander looked suspiciously at the roof under his feet. "Why don't they all come through the ceiling?"

"Magical effects, such as the soulstorm, have a strong tendency to conform to the boundaries created by human structures." Giles explained. "The reasons why are rather complex but it means that, since the ghosts have to stay inside the soulstorm to stay in our world, most of them will be trapped inside the building unless they can get themselves embodied. Only the strongest will be able to ride the fringes of the storm out where we are. However, even the strongest shouldn't be able to summon zombies for themselves to possess. It could be because they were demons but I'm afraid that it may be the result of the same act of necromancy as raised Ytwomj and created the soulstorm, an act most likely performed by the shadow entity you saw. The most worrying, though, is that the spell appears to have been cast from outside our reality."

Giles paused to adjust his glasses. "I really need to consult my books, and the board's."

"I only asked one question." Xander said, smiling. "You heard, just one question."

Buffy smiled. "Just tell us what we need to do. Can you stop the soulstorm?"

"No." Giles said. "Not without more research. Normally they stop at sunrise, by themselves, but this one may be different."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Buffy persisted. "This town doesn't need more demons."

Giles hesitated. "The lesser seal of the board should work. It invokes the same Power as I did to channel the holy fire. No evil short of a god should be able to pass that seal."

"Okay." Xander said slowly. "This would be the power that you said could drive you mad if you used it again?"

"This is more like a cross." Giles said. "I don't channel the Power directly. It's the same seal as I used to protect the library earlier."

"Those were stones." Buffy objected.

"Stones with this seal already on them. Drawing the seal is not entirely safe. Eventually the Power will require me to pay, but as long as I draw the seal with appropriate reverence for good purpose the price will be manageable. If I didn't, if we just scrawled it over our doorways, the price would be our souls, but I'm confident drawing it now will be acceptable."

"You didn't say they were that dangerous when I was holding them." Buffy complained.

"Those weren't, not to us. It is the board member who created them who will pay the price for their use, and for any abuse."

"Just get on with it." Cordelia said. If she let Giles keep explaining they might still be on this roof next week.

"I just need to find the centre of the roof." Giles said, pulling the holy water out of his bag.

Giles looked around, trying to find the right spot, then sprinkled the holy water in a six foot circle.

Cordelia carefully memorised the diagram as Giles drew it; two crossed keys inside a six pointed star, with a circle just touching the points of the star, and a letter in each quadrant of the cross, the four letters spelling the same word as Giles had earlier written on his forehead. She didn't want to have to use it, not if it was as dangerous as Giles said, but if it worked like a cross, without needing magical talent, it might be useful to remember as a last resort.

As soon as Giles completed the last line, the diagram began to glow a brilliant white.

"They didn't do that this afternoon." Buffy said quietly.

A stream of white flames flowed out of each point of the star, across the roof, and down the walls.

"There was no great evil inside the library." Giles replied, "and its boundaries are less clearly defined."

Circles of white flame rippled out from the seal, like waves on a pond.

"We should get off the roof." Giles went on, "and quickly."

Harmony stood up and smiled. "How?"

  


********

  


Three minutes later Cordelia closed her eyes then jumped, off the roof.

It wasn't something she'd ever expected to do, but she had no choice. She'd already seen Buffy catch Xander, so she knew she should be safe but-

Then the jolt of impact drove all thought out of Cordelia's head.

After the initial confusion, while Buffy struggled to get a good grip, there were a dizzying roll and two knee-grazing brushes with the ground before Cordelia finally came to a dead stop.

"OK?" Buffy asked, helping Cordelia to her feet.

Cordelia nodded, then wobbled over to join Xander.

He looked at her and smiled. "That was fun."

Cordelia smiled back. "If only you'd told me earlier, I'd have thrown you off the school roof years ago."

Xander laughed. "If Buffy had been here then I would have jumped."

He looked up at the roof, then frowned nervously. "Is that Willow?"

Cordelia looked up. It was Willow, getting ready to jump.

"Now." Buffy shouted, and Willow leapt.

Buffy jumped up, only five feet but every inch counted. She grabbed Willow in mid-air, knocking her sideways, then rolled with her across the grass, absorbing the impact.

As Buffy got into position for Harmony, Willow stumbled over to join them.

"Spectacular spell," she said, looking at the building.

Cordelia nodded. The building was wrapped in a net of white fire, and there was a copy of the board's seal in the centre of the wall Cordelia was facing.

"It certainly frightened the demons away." Cordelia said. Few demons would be arrogant enough to stay and fight in the face of magic that powerful.

"It didn't stop the zombies." Xander said, looking nervously at an approaching zombie.

"Giles thinks they'll stop soon." Willow said. "He thinks they were all summoned when Ytwomj woke up. They've just taken their time getting here."

"Great." Cordelia said, then stepped aside to let the zombie pass.

"Don't they bother you?" Willow asked, peering at Cordelia.

Of course they did, but she wasn't going to admit it, not in public.

"They're harmless."

The moment the zombie touched the wall it disintegrated, swiftly crumbling away into dust.

"They're stupid." Harmony said. "Nothing sensible would come here."

Xander smiled, but before he could he could make the obvious reply Harmony overrode him.

"That's why I was never here. I went straight home from the Bronze. Remember that."

Harmony walked slowly away, alone.

  
A few minutes later Cordelia was walking home with the Scoobies.

"Tonight's events will require intensive research." Giles said. "Be there by half eight and I'll get you out of all your morning classes."

"Are you kidding?" Xander asked. "It's-"

As Xander looked at his watch his eyes widened in sudden shock. "Three AM! I'll still be asleep."

"Three!" Buffy muttered. "I'll be grounded for weeks."

"Only if she's still awake." Cordelia replied.

"It might not be." Willow said. "Space was distorted in there. Could time have been?"

Giles hesitated. "Space and time are closely linked, but I think not. The moon is still in the same phase, and patch of sky, which would be too much of a coincidence had there been significant temporal distortion."

Buffy looked blankly at Giles then smiled. "Look! A fire. Shouldn't we investigate?"

Fifty yards ahead the building on the left was burning.

Giles nodded. "What was it?"

"St Cuthbert's." Xander said. "My cousin had his first wedding there."

They stopped at the police cordon, and Giles went off to speak to one of the firemen.

Cordelia couldn't see the entire fire clearly, some of the fire engines were blocking her view, but she could see enough to know it wasn't just arson.

The very ground under the church had melted, leaving a cross shaped pit of lava, red-hot except in its centre, where the altar would have been. There the lava was white-hot and bubbling. No natural fire could burn that hot.

"Must have been magic." Willow said. "The rocks melted but the surrounding building aren't even singed."

Giles walked back to the group, his face grim. "It's not just this church. All the churches in Sunnydale are burning."

Giles looked at Willow. "And both synagogues. All the consecrated buildings were hit, whatever their religion."

"Why?" Willow asked.

Giles shrugged. "There was a tremor just after eleven, then the fires started, all at once."

"There was a tremor when that shadow creature appeared." Willow said, shivering.

"And there was only one tremor tonight." Giles replied. "Most likely, the shadow creature was responsible. Most likely, it was responsible for everything that happened tonight."

"So I've got to kill it?" Buffy said.

Giles blanched. "You've seen what it did to the holy sites, throwing down the gauntlet to every god worshipped there, and that was done in passing. Its power would have been focused on the room where it manifested. You wouldn't stand a chance. Fortunately, it left. We just have to clean up the mess."

"It didn't hurt us." Xander protested.

Cordelia nodded. It had frightened them, and seemed to have done black magic, but it hadn't hurt them directly.

Giles looked at Xander. "It could have. You may have been too unimportant for it to bother with."

There was another obvious possibility, but that wasn't something Cordelia wanted to think about. She quickly looked at Buffy and changed the subject.

"You walking us home again?"

Buffy nodded. "Which way?"

Willow looked hesitantly at Buffy. "Will you be all right alone, after, um, what happened to Owen. I can sleep over. My mum won't notice."

Cordelia nudged Xander before he could speak.

"Don't even think about it." she said quietly.

Xander looked hurt. "Of course not. I'm not you. I do have some tact."

Buffy smiled at Willow. "My mum would notice. I'll be OK."

Cordelia didn't believe her. Buffy had seemed fine while she was protecting them from danger, but now they were safe Buffy was beginning to look wobbly. When she got home Buffy would probably curl up on her bed and cry herself to sleep, just as Cordelia had done when Kevin had been killed.

There wasn't anything Cordelia could do about it though, nothing she could say that would ease Buffy's pain, so she changed the subject.

"Cloudy tonight." Cordelia said, looking up at the sky.

Slowly the scoobies began to walk home together, chatting lightly about inconsequentials, while around them the churches burned.


	9. Cordelia's Ghost: The morning after

It was eight AM when Cordelia stepped into the library the next morning, much earlier than she had intended.

Xander looked up. "You too?"

Cordelia nodded. Xander looked as bad as she felt and Willow no better. Their postures radiated bone-deep exhaustion, their faces were haggard, and their eyes were haunted by the memory of horror.

"What about Harmony?" Willow asked. "She was with us when ..."

Cordelia sighed. "I phoned her earlier. She said she hadn't had any dreams."

"Lucky her." Xander said. "She was sleeping when that thing came."

"Is she normally awake this early?" Willow asked.

Cordelia slowly shook her head as she sat down. 

"It could just be a coincidence." Cordelia said quietly, hoping she was right. After the way Harmony had acted the previous night Cordelia had little sympathy left for her, but no one deserved the nightmares Cordelia had suffered. Not even Angelus would have deserved to suffer so.

Buffy looked sympathetically at the scoobies. "You shouldn't have to go through this. None of you should. Giles was right. You shouldn't be involved. You should have stayed away from me."

Seeing where Buffy was going Cordelia quickly interrupted, glad for the distraction. Dealing with Buffy's problem, comparatively trivial though it was, might at least get her mind away from the nightmares for half a moment.

"Owen only died because you dated him. His death is your fault. Right?"

Buffy nodded.

"Wrong." Cordelia said firmly. She'd seen Buffy like this before, after one of her rare failures, wracked by doubt, blaming herself for half the world's ills. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Owen's death is no one's fault." Cordelia said, trying to remember how Buffy had been cheered up those other times.

That wasn't strictly true. Cordelia knew Owen wasn't supposed to have died so his death had to be the fault of whatever was changing history for the worse but she couldn't tell Buffy that nor would it have helped if she could have. Buffy would only have ignored logic and blamed everything on Cordelia, even though that would be completely unfair.

Buffy frowned. "He wouldn't have died if-"

"If he'd ducked when Willow told him to, if Angel had spotted him following us, if his parents had moved away, if, if, if..."

Cordelia looked at Buffy, trying to judge her reaction. She was copying something she half remembered Giles saying once, but what worked for him might not work for her.

Cordelia sighed, then tried to look patient. "If's don't matter. Ytwomj killed Owen, no one else. You didn't do anything wrong. You just did the best you could."

"It wasn't good enough." Buffy persisted.

"You'll do better next time." Willow said, smiling weakly.

"Don't waste time brooding." Cordelia added. "Revenge is much more satisfying. Make Ytwomj pay, and pay."

Buffy nodded slowly then changed the subject. "You have nightmares too?"

Cordelia shuddered, remembering the terrors that had wracked her sleep.

"You did." Buffy said softly. "Why?"

Xander looked up. "That shadow thing was really ugly."

Cordelia frowned. There had to be more to it than that. She'd had nightmares before, but nothing like this. Those other nightmares had been a natural response to the horrors she had seen, shadowy fears bubbling up from her subconscious mind that vanished as quickly as any other dream on waking. Not one of them had been even half as frightening as the reality.

Last night had been different. Every last horrific detail of that nightmare was engraved on her mind as indelibly as the memory of Xander's betrayal. She would never be able to forget the blank look in her father's eyes as he coupled with a rotting corpse, the sound of Xander's laughter as he juggled the severed heads of three women, the blissful smile on her mother's face as she devoured the heart of her firstborn son, or any of the myriad other ghastly vignettes that had formed the backdrop to her nightmare.

Cordelia wrenched her mind away from the nightmare parade. She would never forget the things she had seen beneath the branches of the shadow tree, but she would not let herself spend all her time dwelling on them either. 

"You dreamed about that?" Buffy said. "All of you? I had a slayer dream."

Willow shuddered again, then quietly said, "Not just that. I saw other things, terrible things."

She paused, clearly searching for the right words. "I was shown all the evils that gnaw at the human heart, all the crimes of which we might be capable, in full colour with surround sound. I could even smell the blood, but that was not the worst of it. There were other creatures moving in the darkness, savouring the fruits of human malice, creatures-"

For a moment Willow's face was contorted in abject terror, then she quickly changed tack. "That don't belong in my dreams. I don't think these were normal dreams. I think the shadow creature sent them."

Cordelia half-smiled at the good news. She had been assuming the nightmare had been the product of her twisted subconscious, an assumption which had led to uncomfortable speculation about her mental stability, but if the nightmare had been sent from outside she didn't have any reason to worry.

"Makes sense." Xander replied. "We have to tell Giles."

"He's still on the phone." Buffy said. "Talking to his people in England."

Cordelia looked at the table. "Tell Giles what? 'Nasty monster gave us bad dreams?' What can he do anyway? You saw how powerful the shadow creature is."

Giles himself had said it had to be of godlike power but, if even half Cordelia's dreams had been true, that was a major understatement. 

"Giles has all these weird books." Xander said, looking at the shelves. "He might know something."

Willow nodded. "Did you hear the whispering? I didn't recognise the language but Giles will, if I can just remember the words. That'll help him identify the creature."

Cordelia shuddered, remembering the half-heard whispers that had underlain her nightmares. Words murmured in an alien tongue, they should have gone unnoticed amidst the images of terror.

They hadn't.

Though the words had meant nothing to her the language of the whispers had transcended words. Like a mushroom growing within a rotting log understanding of the whispers had grown within the darkest recesses of her mind, then suddenly erupted into the light, and Cordelia had woken whimpering.

It had been almost an hour before she'd found the courage to get out of bed.

"You heard that too?" Xander said, looking at Willow. "What about the laughter?"

"Laughter?" Buffy said sharply, "Was it sniggering?"

"No." Xander replied, "This was, um, it wasn't bad. It was laughing at the badness. It was nice but in a not good way."

Xander hesitated. "It was like chocolate sprinkled over a rotten egg."

Cordelia looked closely at Xander. He did seem slightly less haggard than Willow, not quite so burdened by all the sorrows of the world, but why should he have suffered less? 

"I remember now." Willow said tremulously. "Not much of it but enough for Giles, I hope. These are not comfortable words to remember."

Her face ashen, Willow turned to face Buffy then quietly said "Burzum angor korateng burzumengat valash leng."

The light dimmed, swiftly fading to a dull red glow, and the room changed.

Bone spiders scuttled over a floor paved with human skulls, dodging the pools of blood and slime. There were faces bulging from the walls, screaming in agony as blood gushed from their eyes, and the ceiling was a slender lattice of branches silhouetted against a crimson sky. Snakes slithered through those branches, snakes and other creatures less wholesome.

From the shadows there came a whispering, as of a myriad flies swarming over a fresh corpse.

Cordelia frowned. She had seen worse in her nightmares, things that made the warped library seem hardly more unpleasant than Snyder, but this was still disturbing. If any untrained witch could accidentally warp the world with a half-remembered spell then reality was even more fragile than she had realised.

Cordelia looked at her friends, hoping for reassurance, then sighed. They too seemed changed.

Xander was wearing clown makeup, half a dozen bells on blue silk ribbons, and very little else, a bizarre outfit even for someone with Xander's fashion antisense. Xander did look jaw-droppingly sexy, with his normally well-hidden physique on full display, but he should also have looked ridiculous. Instead he looked dangerous, like a tiger lolling in the sun. This was a glimpse of Xander as he had been in her nightmares; neither good nor evil, all he wanted was to be amused but his humour was as twisted as the room. This Xander could strangle a woman with her new-born child's intestines then turn around to rescue a kitten from a burning tree, and would rank both deeds of equal worth. At least demons were predictable.

Buffy looked no better. She looked like a killer, conscienceless as a cat. She was so encrusted in mud and gore that Cordelia couldn't begin to tell what Buffy was wearing but in her left hand she held a spear, its point dripping blood, and around her neck was fastened a string of teeth. Without friends, without family, this Buffy walked alone, living only for the kill. A slayer unfettered by human emotion, free of morality and shame, she was death walking, and nothing of this world could stand against her.

The whispering drew closer, rousing the memories of nightmare, and the room writhed, growing ever more vile.

Willow was shrouded in yards of black velvet, studded with diamonds. In her left hand she clutched an ancient tome, caressing it with as much love as Cordelia had once thought she had for Xander, which was normal enough for Willow. Her face wasn't. Only a few scraps of withered skin still clung to her skull, maggots crawled on her rotting tongue, and over her head lay the shadow of an iron crown. In her right eye socket a ruby slowly spun, but in her left only shadows lay. This was the Willow Cordelia had seen hang herself from the shadow tree. Love, humanity, her very soul, this Willow had sacrificed them all to feed her obsession. Nothing of Willow now remained, save the hunger that had consumed her, but still her empty husk walked the world, a master of every magic in thrall to its own dreams.

Cordelia thought quickly. If everything else looked like a watered down version of her nightmares, what must she look like? She had felt like her normal self in her own dream, but the shadow tree wouldn't have let Xander dream about anything so pleasant.

There were words in the whispering now, hovering at the edge of comprehension, words Cordelia did not want to hear, not after the effect Willow's six words had produced. 

Cordelia looked slowly down at her hands, then shivered. Her hands were still beautiful but it was not a human beauty. Her skin was covered in iridescent scales, her little fingers were blood-red claws, and her other fingers had been replaced by two sets of tentacles, bonelessly supple.

The whispering resolved into a single voice, gentle as a scalpel brushing the throat.

Cordelia cowered, anticipating horror.

The voice spoke.

"A dark sun shall rise to shadow the brightest star"

There was a moment of silence, then daylight returned.

Cordelia looked around. The room looked as if nothing had happened, which would be good if true. Cordelia didn't like illusions, they were just another way of tricking her, but there were some things worse than being tricked.

Her friends were back to normal too, by their standards. Really normal people wouldn't be seen dead in Xander's shirt.

For a moment they all sat frozen then Xander smiled at Willow. "Great special effects but no plot. Hollywood will love you."

Cordelia half-smiled, then looked at the office door. She'd expected Giles to be out by now, stammering explanations. Did he even know anything had happened or had the visions been confined to the main library?

Pale-faced and trembling, Buffy stared at Xander. "Y-you're joking? H-how?"

Xander shrugged. "The dreams were worse."

Cordelia nodded. Compared with the dreams the vision had only been mildly unnerving, but it still shouldn't have happened. 

"Worse?" Buffy gasped, her voice quivering. "There's a worse? How much worse?"

Xander leaned forwards. "I saw my mother burning Giles alive on a pile of his own books. She laughed as ..."

Cordelia stopped listening. Telling Buffy about the nightmares wouldn't help, it would just give her something else to feel guilty about. What they actually needed was an explanation, and a way to stop the nightmares recurring. What they actually needed was Giles, but rather than doing anything useful he was just chatting with his English friends, watchers who had been completely useless in the original history. 

True, this time round they had deigned to tell Giles about some useful stuff, such as the fancy seal he'd used to lock up the soulstorm, though they'd only done that little because the thought of Omega had them running scared, but even if they did happen to be telling Giles something important surely it could wait. 

Giles needed to get his priorities right. Buffy and Cordelia should come first, the other scoobies second, and the Council a distant third. In fact, if Giles had been doing his duty properly, explaining last night rather than chatting with his friends, he would have stopped Willow repeating the words and Cordelia wouldn't have been subjected to that unpleasant experience.

Just as Buffy was starting to look queasy Giles dashed out of his office with several folders clutched to his chest, holding a single slim folder at arms length.

"What spoke?" Giles asked hurriedly, before he even reached the table. "Did you see it?"

Buffy smiled with obvious relief. "The vision? Yes. You know what-"

"No." Giles interrupted. "Before that. There will have been strange words. Did you see what spoke them?"

"Um," Willow said apologetically, half-raising her hand. "That was me, but I didn't know they'd do that."

"You!" Giles gasped. "How? Where did you hear those words?"

"In my nightmares." Willow replied. "We all did, except Buffy. Were they a spell?"

"They were in the midnight tongue," Giles explained. "The primal language of black magic. What nightmares?"

"A spell?" Cordelia said hastily, not wanting to hear another rehashing of the nightmares. "Were we really changed?"

Giles hesitated. "Yes, and no. Nothing physically changed, but what we saw was as real as love or death. To speak the midnight tongue is to open a channel into the outer darkness, a channel through which the power of Omega can flow into the world. Fortunately, since Willow had neither the knowledge of how to focus that power nor any intention of doing so, the power was dissipated near harmlessly. Even so, while the sound of the midnight tongue lingered the shadow of Omega lay upon we who had heard it, and we saw what Omega would have us believe to be the true nature of the world."

"That's bad, right?" Xander asked.

"It's catastrophic, perhaps even apocalyptic." Giles said as he put the pile of folders down then carefully placed the slim folder in the centre of the table. 

Recognising the danger signs, Cordelia edged her chair backwards.

"Willow, " Giles continued, "has just set off the thaumaturgical equivalent of an atom bomb on top of the hellmouth, only hours after something ripped open a death gate within its umbra. The damage done to the hellmouth seals is incalculable; at the very least we must expect another increase in demonic activity, but we could well be facing a complete failure of the local causal nexus."

Cordelia had spent enough time with the Scooby gang to know what that meant. The end of the world was nigh, again. 

"Great," Cordelia said, looking wearily up at Giles. "And all because you were too busy chatting with the council." 

"But what did we actually see?" Buffy asked, looking speculatively at Xander's chest. "Why was he wearing bells? Is it a prophecy?"

"Bells?" Giles echoed, looking puzzled. "Interesting. What you should have seen was a manifestation of Xander's potential for evil. I'm not entirely sure how bells fit in."

"So that was what we'd look like, if we went over to the dark side?" Willow said hesitantly. "It was difficult to see the details in my dreams. All that blood got in the way. Um, what did I look like?"

"Hungry." Buffy said. "And half dead. Black is not your colour."

Cordelia looked at Giles. "So if Buffy stops washing her hair we'll have to-"

Cordelia stopped. What could they do if Buffy went bad?

"The clothes were principally symbolic." Giles said as he sat down. "And it wasn't a prophecy per se."

"You mean Cordelia isn't going to run around naked." Xander said, sounding almost disappointed.

Reminded of her dreams, Cordelia shuddered

"You had scales, and horns." Willow said quickly, elbowing Xander. "He didn't see anything. Was it a warning?"

"More a threat." Giles replied. "You saw the worst you could become, but only if you make the choices Omega wants you to make. It need never happen. What did Buffy look like?"

"Savage." Xander said, "but not as bad as in our nightmares." 

"They can't have been normal nightmares," Giles noted, "not if you heard the midnight tongue."

"That's why I repeated those words." Willow said. "So you'd know something weird had happened."

"You certainly proved that." Giles said. "Couldn't you have waited?"

"Why should we have?" Cordelia asked. "You knew we were out here. England can wait."

Giles sighed. "I was talking to Dame Margo fforbes-Hamilton, a member of the board. If I ended the conversation before she was ready she would not have been pleased."

"So what?" Cordelia asked flippantly. "You can always apologise later. We needed you five minutes ago."

Personally Cordelia didn't think Giles would have had anything to apologise for, but she remembered what Giles had said about the board before. They were the people who had stopped the council interfering with Giles, after spending ages interrogating Cordelia and the others. Giles had to be polite to them, or they might let the council off its leash.

"Dame Margo has never been an easy woman to say 'No' to," Giles replied, "and in the current circumstances that would have been particularly unwise."

Giles hesitated, looking thoughtful, then smiled. "Dame Margo had, um, certain questions she needed to ask me concerning recent events. Had I given any excuse for not answering them in full, even attending to the needs of the slayer, that could have been considered evidence of, um, a capital crime." 

Surprised, Cordelia looked at Giles, then flinched. Giles looked just like he had when he had convinced Buffy to kill herself so he might enjoy her corpse.

Cordelia closed her eyes and counted to ten. That was not a real memory, just another short scene from her nightmare. She had to remember that, remember the difference between reality and nightmare, or she'd spend the rest of her life afraid to breathe.

Cordelia forced the nightmare memory aside, then looked carefully at Giles. 

Had he really suggested that the council might have killed him just for being rude? She'd expect that from the Master, but not from the council. They were supposed to be good guys. 

"Why? What circumstances?" Willow asked.

Giles began cleaning his glasses. "Dame Margo said the council have decided, despite her most strongly worded recommendations to the contrary, that I should say nothing unless you happened to ask me a direct question."

"Willow just did." Cordelia pointed out, not bothering to mention that Giles had provoked the question. He wasn't normally deliberately indirect, but it sounded he might have good reason.

Cordelia looked speculatively at Giles. He had good reason to be indirect, but only if he wanted to talk to them about the council, which he had never done before. He'd mentioned it, sure, but only when he'd absolutely had to. Why had he chosen now to start talking?

Now that she thought about, while Giles seemed to be his normal unemotional self, there were subtle signs that something was troubling him in a way the hellmouth never had. No one else would have noticed, but Cordelia had spent long enough in the library to recognise all the different ways Giles cleaned his glasses.

"The activist factions have rebelled against the council, which puts us all in additional danger."

Xander looked at Giles. "Why? Aren't they all good guys?"

Cordelia smiled patiently at Xander. "If they're fighting each other they can't help us."

Since they'd been completely useless the first time round, that was a big no change, good news for Cordelia. The closer everything stayed to the original history, the easier it would be for Cordelia to stay in control of the changes.

Giles frowned. "That's not the only problem. The rebels feel the board has been too passive in its response to the current crisis."

"You mean last night." Cordelia interrupted. Giles kept forgetting he wasn't speaking to a bunch of stuffed shirts.

"No." Giles said. "Well, not precisely. Last night is part of it, but concern has been building since the future changed. The board quelled dissent when they interviewed you, but last nights events precipitated an unprecedented rebellion."

Giles paused. "Normally, dissident factions confine their actions to bureaucratic infighting and selective deafness but Travers and his people spilled blood in the council chambers."

Giles scowled. "He actually spilt blood in our inner sanctum, a place inviolate since its building. It doesn't matter how vigorous the debate got, there's no excuse for that. He could have resigned at any time, and been free to do as he liked. The council would not have given him any support but neither would they have tried to hinder him. But, no, he lacked the courage of his convictions. Unwilling to stand alone he tried to force the council to support him, an unforgivable crime."

Giles looked apologetically at Buffy. "The wet squads will hunt him down, and everyone suspected of supporting him That's why I had to tread carefully with Dame Margo."

Xander looked confused. "Can you say that again, in English, not whatever language they speak in-"

"England." Giles said, smiling slightly. "When the death gate opened-"

Willow raised her hand. "Um, what's a death gate."

"A permanent portal to one of the afterlives. Last night the shadow creature you saw ripped one open, from the outside. That's what caused the soulstorm."

Cordelia frowned. That did not sound like good news.

"So it's a gateway to hell?" Willow said, shivering. "You mean we've got another hellmouth?"

"No." Giles said quickly. "This is different."

"How?" Willow asked.

"Whereas-" Giles began.

"Do we really need to know the details?" Cordelia said, before Giles could get theoretical.

Giles half-smiled. "Not all of them. You do need to know what a death gate does but I can explain that later, after I've answered Xander's question."

Cordelia nodded. Giles and Willow might find the theory fascinating. No one else did.

"Anyway," Giles continued, "when the death gate opened there was another burst of omens and portents. Travers seized the opportunity to call an emergency session while the board was otherwise occupied."

"Tell us what he actually wanted to do." Cordelia said quickly, before Giles could start describing the council's bureaucracy. 

"He proposed the impeachment of the current board for incompetence, and his election as its new chairman. He and his cronies said they would open the Ragnarok Vault and kill every demon in Sunnydale. It might only have been a negotiating position but it gained the support of many of the younger members."

And rightly so, Cordelia thought. Travers would certainly have won her vote.

"- can do that?" Buffy was asking. "Why don't they?"

"It wouldn't just be the demons who died. Dame Margo says the Ragnarok Vault contains weapons with which one man can stand against an army, weapons that can smash mountains to rubble and boil oceans dry."

"Cool." Xander said. "The Master will be toast."

"No." Giles said firmly. "You don't use heavy artillery for pest control. The Ragnarok Vault is the board's last resort, to be used only when all else has failed, when the old ones have reduced the cities of men to charnel houses and built their thrones upon the smouldering ruins."

"In case of apocalypse, break glass." Willow summed up.

"After the last minute." Cordelia added sourly.

OK, the vault meant that if the demons won they wouldn't live long enough to enjoy the victory party, which was some consolation, but Cordelia would still have lost, a completely unacceptable outcome.

Giles frowned. "I was not entirely without reservations when Dame Margo informed me of this policy but consider this. There are over ten thousand near apocalypses recorded in the council's archives. The board did not think any of them worth opening the Vault for, and they were right every single time."

Giles smiled. "Of course, if the board had told the council about their secret vault it would have been used by now."

Buffy looked at Giles. "Why tell us about weapons we can't use?"

"Travers proposed using them on Sunnydale." Giles said. "After seeing last night's omens, and learning of the photos, many of the younger watchers agreed with him. It may be that-"

"But you said people would die." Willow interrupted. "How could they agree to that?"

"At first Travers avoided mentioning the likely death toll," Giles explained. "But when Miss Kimberthwaite's persistent questioning forced him to admit how many would be killed he said 'better a few million than billions'. Shortly afterwards the fighting started."

Cordelia smiled inwardly. That explained why Giles seemed slightly troubled. His old friends were fighting each other, maybe even killing each other. Everything he had spent his adult life working for was in jeopardy, and there was nothing he could do. Cordelia would have been seething but Giles was English; he vented steam so quietly only someone with Cordelia's superlative people skills would have noticed.

If Giles had been one of her friends she would have taken him out for some retail therapy but overt sympathy would only embarrass him. No doubt he'd prefer it if she just listened, and he might let some useful information slip.

"Must be bad omens." Xander said quietly.

Giles nodded. "At 10:06 PM, Sunnydale time, there was a magnitude four earthquake."

"That all?" Cordelia said. "They happen every few months."

"Nothing by Californian standards" Giles conceded, "but this earthquake was felt as strongly in Surrey as Sunnydale. Nor was that all. In that moment, many of the world's most sacred sites were defiled."

"Like the synagogues and churches here." Willow said. "Why?"

"Not quite," Giles corrected. "The consecrated buildings of Sunnydale were destroyed because they were within its unholy aura. The board believes the holy places were defiled during an attempt to sunder our world from the powers that be. Had it succeeded nothing could have kept the shadow entity from perverting our world, swiftly making real the vision we just saw."

"But it failed." Xander said. "We saw it running away."

Giles smiled. "The powers that be, um, slammed the door in its face, thrusting it back into the outer darkness."

"So why the panic?" Cordelia asked. "And what has this got to do with us."

"The rebel watchers will be coming here."

"I'm guessing they're not coming for the night life." Willow said. "Um, not the human night life, that is. They will be killing vampires, but if that were all they were coming here for you wouldn't be worried so they must be planning something else. What?"

Giles nodded. "They are planning to put into practice the policies they advocated."

"What policies?" Xander asked.

Cordelia tried to remember what Giles had been saying. The rebels wanted to help Buffy kill demons, which was good, but they considered innocent casualties acceptable which was fine, in principle; if a few strangers had to die so that Cordelia, and the rest of the world, could live then let them die.

Giles looked at Xander, sighed, then began patiently explaining the rebel's policies.

Unfortunately, from what Giles had said, it sounded like the rebel watchers might be willing to let her die, which would be completely unacceptable. Even if they didn't, they'd certainly get in the way, making even harder for her to make history follow her script.

There wasn't anything Cordelia could do about them though. She'd just have to hope the other watchers kept the rebels away from Sunnydale.

"-consider such deaths deeply regrettable, but necessary for the greater good. The board disagrees." Giles said. "The other danger is that some of the rebels will try to void the new prophecies by removing you three from consider-"

Giles suddenly paused and looked thoughtfully at Xander. "Bells. Did you hear, um, portentous laughter?"

Willow nodded. "He did, in his nightmares, but not part of them. You mean they'll want to kill us, right?"

"No, they just want you three on separate continents. The standard tactic would be to try to bribe your parents to get them to leave Sunnydale. Did you hear this laughter too?"

"No, just Xander. Why-"

"Describe it." Giles said.

As Xander repeated his description Cordelia quickly thought. Bribing Xander's parents would be easy enough but her own parents would be much harder to shift. If some stranger offered her father a million dollars to move he'd just assume they were trying to cheat him out a two million dollar opportunity. Besides, Giles obviously didn't have much money, or he'd have a better car, so the rebels couldn't have much either, and certainly not enough to bribe her parents, unless they'd stolen it.

"Did the rebels steal much?" Cordelia asked, interrupting Xander.

"Part of our library." Giles said sourly. "Five minutes after Travers escaped the building he returned with a dozen removal vans. While most of the rebels were fighting the loyalists hand to hand in the council corridors, Travers and his cronies absconded with some of the more important texts, and the card catalogue. The board suspects a conspiracy."

Well, obviously. Cordelia had heard enough business gossip while gracing her father's social functions to recognise an attempted boardroom coup. Travers had probably been planning his rebellion ever since Cordelia's interview with the board had convinced them to veto Travers's proposal to interfere.

"Did they steal anything useful?" Buffy asked.

"They broke into one of the vaults where dark magic weapons are stored."

"They'd be bad, right?" Willow interrupted. "Why have you got bad weapons? How dangerous are they? They can't be too bad or they'd be in the Ragnarok Vault, but if they were harmless you wouldn't be bothered."

"Stored until we find out how to safely destroy them. The stock inventory is missing so we don't know what Travers took. We do know the items in there were of only moderate power, capable of putting their wielders on a par with the slayer but no more than that."

Xander looked at Giles, flinching slightly. "What about my dream? The laughter, remember? Isn't that important?"

"Ah, yes, that." Giles said, then hesitated. "If it is pigs can fly."

Not, Cordelia noticed, an unambiguous denial. There were stranger things than flying pigs, here on the hellmouth.

Willow looked thoughtful but Buffy shrugged the issue aside.

"You're telling me that there'll be dozens of watchers running amok in the streets with magic weapons?" Buffy said, looking disbelievingly at Giles.

"Not this week." Giles said. "The police have been misinformed, which will make it harder for the British rebels to leave the country. We shall have a few weeks to prepare for their arrival. Nor will they be running amok. They want to fight but not to die. Without the overwhelming advantage the Ragnarok vault would have provided them they can be expected to fight the way they have been trained, with the pen not the sword."

Giles smiled. "Most likely, Travers will seek to infiltrate local government, reducing the mayor to a figurehead and gaining control of the police, then arm the police with magic and let them fight pitched battles with the vampires. It's an attractive tactic, if you aren't worried about the death toll."

Willow trembled slightly as she looked at Giles. "Why did they panic? I know you said omens, but they've seen omens before. What was so bad about these?"

Giles hesitated. "Do any of you listen to the morning news?"

Willow frowned. "My mom had the radio on. They were saying something about, um- Riots? Mass hysteria? I couldn't listen to it too long, not after what I saw my dad doing with it, in my dreams I mean. Real dreams, not figurative. Did it do that?"

Xander patted Willow's arm reassuringly as Giles nodded. "Most of those sacred sites defiled have been abandoned but some are still revered today."

Giles looked nervously at Willow. "Of those, the best known is the wailing wall."

Willow leaned forwards, staring intently at Giles.

"At the instant of the tremor the words Willow quoted were engraved on the wall, in the Arabic script."

"Why?" Willow snapped, her face pale with fury. "How dare-"

"The script isn't important," Giles hastily interrupted. "It was used as a cruel joke. It wouldn't matter what alphabet the words were written in; it is the sound of the midnight tongue that taps into the outer darkness, not mere arbitrary human representations of it."

"So it's OK to write it down?" Cordelia asked, wondering what it would take to make Giles speak plain English.

Giles nodded. "The problem is that people keep reading it, which isn't doing much for the city. The other sites similarly defiled we can temporarily conceal but hiding the wailing wail from public view is less practical. We may need to demolish it."

Cordelia looked at Willow, wondering what her problem was. Giles had mentioned Arabic, so this wall was probably in the middle east, maybe Baghdad or Cairo, but why would Willow be concerned about those places?

"You can do that?" Willow said, sounding shocked. "You can't do that! I mean, I'm not observant, but I know how important it is to those who are. Destroying something that holy, it wouldn't be right. Can't you just erase it." 

"If we had time," Giles conceded. "Time, and enough privacy to perform the ceremonies necessary to cleanse the stones of the taint of the shadow creature. You only spoke a few brief words in the midnight tongue, and we all saw what effects that had, despite our being under the protective umbrella of the lesser seal. Can you imagine what it must be like to spend nine hours under its shadow, completely unprotected.?"

Cordelia could, now.

Buffy shuddered. "Destroy it."

Willow started to object, but Cordelia was only half listening.

In the morgue she had realised something had to be altering history for the worse, but she had assumed it was probably just another demon, nothing she couldn't cope with.

Now, though, Cordelia knew better. 

Before, in the original history, nothing this bad had ever happened. There'd been a few deaths, well maybe a few hundred, but nowhere outside Sunnydale had been affected. Even in Sunnydale things hadn't been too bad, the school paper might have an obituary column but property prices were low. Even in the worst years nearly three-quarters of the deaths were from natural causes, which were better odds than smoking would give.

This time round things had been changed, and not in ways she wanted. An entire city had been plunged into a living nightmare, from a distance of ten thousand miles, and they hadn't even been targeted.

This wasn't just bad luck or demonic mischief. This was an evil that dwarfed everything she had seen before, power on a scale that could only be called godlike.

Cordelia sighed. Demons weren't a real problem, especially not with the advantage her wish had given her, but a god would be a much tougher proposition.

Still, whatever dark god was to blame hadn't done anything until she had made her wish. That must mean it had been unable to act without her, so it had a weakness. It also made her partially responsible for its actions.

She would just have to take care of this meddling god before she could enjoy the benefits of her wish. It wouldn't be easy but Cordelia was sure she'd think of something.

"-the only evidence, Travers might not have been so successful." Giles was saying. "But there were also the photos."

Giles paused, looked nervously at the slim folder, then pulled a pair of silk gloves out of his breast pocket.

"Photos of the wall?" Willow asked, staring intently at the folder. "Um, you said those words were written there. Photos of them aren't dangerous, are they?" 

"No," Giles said quickly. "Not of the wall." 

Cordelia watched warily as Giles put the gloves on, then pulled a slender pair of tongs and a matchbox out of his jacket pockets. She had no idea what Giles was planning, but he clearly thought it was dangerous.

Giles tossed the matchbox to Buffy. "When I show you the photo, burn it. The rest of you, sit well back."

Cordelia edged her chair back another three inches.

"Why?" Buffy asked as Xander nudged Willow's chair further from the table.

Ignoring Buffy, Giles took a deep breath then flicked the folder open with his tongs.

There was a single sheet of paper in it, face down in the centre of a pentagram.

"Are you ready?" Giles asked, his eyes still focused on the open folder.

Buffy lit the match. "Yes, but what's the-"

Giles half-closed his eyes, then used the tongs to gingerly flip the sheet of paper over.

Cordelia frowned in puzzlement. There was nothing on the paper except a poor quality satellite photo of southern California, and that had a grey splotch in the middle, where Sunnydale should have been.

Buffy hesitated, looking puzzled.

The splotch writhed, tendrils of shadow snaking across the page.

"Quickly!" Giles urged.

Faster than the eye could follow Buffy whipped the match towards the paper, so fast it guttered out before it got there.

Cordelia winced.

The shadows deepened, a fast darkening stain blotting out half California, coiling in serpentine patterns that drew the eye.

"Not again." Willow sighed.

Buffy lit a second match.

There was nothing visible left of the paper now, just a window into darkness bordered by shadow.

Her gaze caught by the hypnotic writhing of the shadows, Cordelia watched helplessly as shapes formed in the darkness.

In the darkness she saw a heartwarming family scene, a smiling mother nursing her baby while her husband bounced their daughter on his knee, and she saw how their idyll had ended, when the demons came. The father had died first, his heart ripped out before he had recognised the threat. The demons had offered to let the mother escape, but she had stayed and fought, in a futile attempt to protect her children. The boy had been nailed to the wall, a warning to all who dreamed of happiness, but the girl had been used to satisfy the demons' many hungers.

In the darkness she saw a peaceful nation, green and prosperous, a land that had taken noble dreams and made them real, and she saw how the dream had ended. Demons had-

Cordelia gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the vision, but the shadows compelled her attention.

Demons had walked its streets in human shape, whispering poisoned counsel into the ears of men. 

Giles began to mutter, his voice gradually gaining strength.

Before five years had passed the land fell into civil war.

"-despair. These are but shadows. I must not despair." Giles said

Famine had followed, as-

Cordelia struggled to focus on Giles.

Image followed image, each with its tale of suffering, but Cordelia clung to the thin thread of Giles's voice and refused to despair.

After a few moments Cordelia began to echo Giles's chant.

She still could not look away or even blink but, her willpower bolstered by the chant, she found she could look at the images more dispassionately.

They looked like fragments of her nightmares, but they felt somehow different, weaker.

First Xander, then Willow joined in the chant.

The images radiated the same boundless malice, the same delight in the destruction of hope and the loss of innocence, but they lacked the overwhelming power of her nightmares.

Where the nightmares had been like being buried alive under a mountain, a crushing weight she could never hope to bear, the photo was more like being buried in a shallow grave, unpleasant but survivable.

When Cordelia finally saw Buffy's hand inch into view, a lit match clutched in the trembling fingers, she managed to smile.

After what felt like ages the flame reached the shadows.

The images froze.

Golden flames raced around the edge of the photo, surrounding the shadows.

Dazzled by the sudden light, Cordelia blinked and looked away.

Xander smiled, the first real smile Cordelia had seen that day.

Feeling unexpectedly reassured, Cordelia looked back at the table.

A ring of fire hung in mid-air, the shadows still writhing in its centre, but the ring was shrinking, squeezing the shadows out of existence.

A new image formed in the shadows; Buffy, naked, chained to the wall, a thousand cuts marring her naked skin, each swarming with maggots, while all around her friends danced, heedless of the screams.

Suddenly pale, Buffy wobbled in her chair, her eyes unfocused.

The shadows vanished, chased away by the flames.

Giles dropped the tongs.

Buffy turned to look at Giles.

"Why?" she asked plaintively.

Giles was still staring at where the shadows had been. "It didn't do that before."

"Before?" Willow said. "You had already looked at it?"

Giles blinked, then slowly nodded. "That was a sixth generation copy. Dame Margo did describe similar effects, but they were from a third generation copy. Something must have reinvigorated it."

"The hellmouth?" Willow suggested before Cordelia could work out what Giles was talking about.

"No." Giles said firmly. "When I first looked at it, it was unpleasant, but no more. A few hours on the hellmouth shouldn't have empowered it that much."

"What was it?" Buffy asked, looking intently at Giles. "What did we see?"

Buffy licked her lips then swallowed. "Was it, um, a, I mean, will it ... come true?"

"No." Giles said. "The last vision was an empty threat. What you just saw was a routine satellite photo of southern California, taken last night, which-"

"You've got your own satellites?" Xander interrupted, looking surprised. "Aren't they too modern-"

"We have, um, unofficial contacts in US intelligence who let us know when anything untoward happens. This certainly qualified."

"But what made the photo go all wigsome?" Buffy asked, leaning forward.

"The satellite photographed the aura of the shadow entity that-"

As he spoke Giles looked quickly at Cordelia and the others before turning back to Buffy.

"These three saw last night."

Buffy looked puzzled. "A vampire's photo doesn't bite. How-"

Giles half-smiled. "A vampire is small fry. If the evil is sufficiently great, anything inanimate in its presence can become imbued with its malign aura. It's happened before, but not on this scale."

Willow looked briefly thoughtful. "The satellite wasn't in Sunnydale."

Giles nodded. "It was looking this way, which was enough."

"So the satellite is evil now?" Cordelia said, to prove she was listening.

"Not precisely." Giles said. "It's still only a mindless machine, but it has become ... vile. Our contacts will be shooting it down once they've destroyed the hard copies."

Giles hesitated. "It's probably not a good idea to use the fax machine either. I'll have to cleanse it, and this room."

"So everything the photo has touched went bad?" Cordelia asked nervously. If a photo of the shadow tree could do that, what had being near the real thing done?

"Not just the original photo. In the next worst case the council knows of, the photo just radiated a mild sense of unfocused malice. Copies of that photo were harmless. The shadow entity was so powerful that even its photo radiated more malice than a dark god, enough that copies of the original photo were themselves contaminated."

Giles frowned. "The copy the council received was third generation, but it was still powerful enough for a pseudo-visual manifestation of the shadow entity's desires, much like the one we just experienced."

Cordelia nodded understandingly. If that was what the council had seen it wasn't surprising some of them had panicked. "But-"

Giles ignored Cordelia. "The copy we received was sixth generation but, even before something reinvigorated it, that copy radiated as much dread as the photograph of Shub-Niggurath. We have not yet been able to conclusively identify the shadow entity but this much is clear. It was no mere demon lord or petty godling. It was an ancient terror spawned of the outer darkness, a power vast beyond our comprehension."

That did not sound like good news. Cordelia thought quickly, trying to remember if Giles had described anything like that before, and came up with just one answer.

"Omega?" 

Giles nodded gravely, but Willow looked doubtful.

"Isn't there only one Omega?"

"Yes." Giles said slowly, looking warily at Willow. "Why?"

"We only saw one of the shadow creatures clearly but there were lots of others behind it. They just didn't come close."

"They were smaller." Xander said.

Willow looked at him. "Smaller, or just further away?"

Giles stared at Willow, his face bone white. 

Cordelia shuddered. If that had only been a minion she never wanted to see its master.

"Marvellous," Giles said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Bloody marvellous. What next? Tea with the Morning Star?"

Giles glanced at Cordelia. "A public reading of the Al Azif?"

Giles looked at Xander. "Riding with the Wild Hunt?"

Buffy leaned forwards. "Leave them alone. They haven't done anything wrong."

Giles laughed sardonically. "We left them alone for five minutes and they, they-"

Giles stopped and stared blankly at the table.

After a moment he sighed. "I just wish I'd learnt this sooner. I-"

Giles stopped again, then began cleaning his glasses.

Cordelia scowled at Willow. Couldn't she have waited to break the bad news?

OK, they needed to know there might be worse things than the shadow tree out there, but they didn't need to know about them right this minute. They had more urgent concerns.

"Giles," Cordelia said quickly, "Everything near the shadow tree soaked up its evil, right? What about us?"

Giles put his glasses back on. "Everything inanimate. With neither mind nor soul, such objects were defenceless. You have both so should be in no danger."

"Should?" Cordelia said, looking challengingly at Giles.

Willow nodded. "We've already had nightmares which must have been implanted in our subconsciouses by that creature since we heard the midnight tongue spoken during them though we'd never heard it before, at least not so far as we remember, so we know the dark tower, that is the creature that looked like a dark tower to me, must be able to meddle with our minds to some extent. What other surprises might it have buried there?"

"I don't know." Giles said.

Cordelia shivered, trying not to imagine the possibilities.

"But you are still sane." Giles continued. "And the shadow entity had only a few seconds to act, during which we know it forced open the deathgate and assaulted the powers that be. It can't have had enough time for anything other than a brute force assault on your minds, and that would have shattered your sanity."

"Um, Giles." Willow said. "That doesn't explain how the dreams got into our minds. If we don't know that how we can we know nothing else was put there?"

A sensible question, but not now. It was only, Cordelia glanced at her watch, twenty to nine, far too early for-

Cordelia stiffened. Twenty to nine? That couldn't be right.

Her watch ticked on.

"How long have we been here?" Cordelia asked, interrupting Giles. "It doesn't seem like forty minutes."

Giles checked his own watch. "Ah, yes, perceptual time distortion, a classic symptom. We didn't see the visions with our eyes; they were rammed straight into our minds, a process which has several side-effects."

Giles looked at the shelves. "Staniforth wrote at length on the subject. 'On dreams and visions' has the clearest explanation."

Willow smiled.

Giles stood up and started towards the shelves. "And it should answer your other questions too." 

Buffy yawned. "Can't this wait?"

Xander nodded. "Willow can read the book, then tell us about it later."

Cordelia looked at Giles. "There's no immediate danger, is there?"

Giles sat down. "Well, there is the possibility that the nightmares will recur, and remembering them may have adverse effects."

Cordelia shuddered. "Can you do anything?"

If he couldn't they'd just have to grin and bear it. Talking wouldn't help.

"There are certain meditations that should help, if you have sufficient mental discipline, but I need to consult Staniforth to find the most suitable."

Cordelia looked at Xander. She was confident she would have no trouble, and Willow had always had good concentration, but Xander had never been good at anything that required thought.

"What about amulets?" Cordelia asked. "Something easy to use?"

"Unfortunately," Giles said, "All such devices invoke the protection of godlike beings. Your minds have already been assaulted by one such. Invite a second in, and your mind may become a football, tossed willy-nilly between contending powers. The outcome would not be pleasant."

"Worse than the nightmares?" Willow said.

"Maybe." Giles said. "You haven't told me what they were like yet-"

Xander started to speak but Giles rushed on "And I don't want you to, not until you have the memories under control. Any dream in which the midnight tongue was heard must have been at least as unpleasant as the visions it engenders. That is all I need to know."

Giles smiled. "However, since you survived the initial onslaught, which is more than most untrained people could have done, you must have enough willpower to survive any aftereffects unaided. Once you've mastered the Staniforth meditation techniques you should be able to shrug off most future psychic assaults."

Cordelia frowned. She had hoped for more, but it seemed Giles had nothing better to offer.

Xander would just have to learn how to meditate, unlikely but there was always the chance luck would go her way for once. The laughter Xander had heard did seem to have softened the impact of the nightmares; it might soften the aftereffects.

Cordelia smiled grimly. If she was really lucky there might not be any aftereffects.

Willow was talking now, asking another unimportant question.

Before Giles could digress again, Cordelia quickly interrupted.

"Is there anything else urgent? We should talk about that first."

Willow scowled, clearly annoyed, but Cordelia just smiled, then leaned back and waited for the answer.

Buffy looked at Cordelia, then at Giles. "You said something about a deathgate?"

Giles nodded. "Um, yes, the deathgate is definitely important. It's why events last night went so spectacularly wrong, for both us and the Master, and it's here to stay."

"For the Master?" Buffy said. "That wasn't what he wanted?"

"No," Giles said. "The Master only wanted to summon an anointed one, but the shadow entity hijacked his ritual. Now he may have to contend with dozens of resurrected demon lords and he may not even have the anointed one he wanted."

Buffy smiled. "I can live with that."

Giles just looked at Buffy. "The demon lords will be a problem for us too. Since they escaped the soulstorm we know they must all be comparable in power to Ytwomj."

Cordelia swallowed nervously. One Ytwomj was bad enough. If there were a dozen demons like him loose in Sunnydale keeping the situation under control would stretch even her abilities to near breaking point.

"How do I kill them?" Buffy asked. "I want to kill Ytwomj."

"Decapitation normally works," Giles said, "but you shouldn't go looking for them."

"Why not?" Buffy asked, quite reasonably.

"Far too risky. We know nothing about any of them, apart from Ytwomj. Fortunately, demons are not naturally co-operative. Most of them are likely to kill each other fighting for dominance. We can protect the bystanders, then kill the survivors before they recover." 

"And Ytwomj?" Buffy said, her voice quivering with barely-supressed fury "After what he did, I want to kill him myself."

"If he escaped, and don't know if he did, he will not be easy to kill."

Willow looked at Giles. "How did he die last time?"

Giles looked at his notes. "After the San Francisco earthquake he was trapped under a collapsed building. During the ensuing fire he was badly burnt, weakening him. Before he could recover an unknown sorcerer found him and decapitated him then removed his eye."

"Eeew." Buffy said. "You mean I've got to poke his eye out."

Giles nodded. "After you take his head. It is the seat of his power."

"Why would anyone want his eye?" Willow asked.

Giles shrugged. "I can think of at least six uses, most of them dark. Since the same sorcerer appears to have harvested body parts from several other injured demons in the aftermath of the earthquake their motives were unlikely to be good."

"Does he have any weaknesses?" Cordelia asked, before the conversation could drift any further.

"Silver and salt water." Giles said. "But they only weaken him. They will not kill him."

Xander smiled at Buffy. "So get him on a boat, then hit him with your jewellery."

"Are any of your rings real silver?" Cordelia asked. They looked more like cheap tin.

"I have a silver plated sword Buffy can use," Giles said. "But that is not an immediate concern. What matters is the nature of Ytwomj's death and rebirth." 

Giles looked at Buffy, then at Willow. "Why it matters is a rather complex eschatological question but I'll try to keep it simple."

Cordelia groaned inwardly. She wasn't even sure what eschatology was.

"Demons can sometimes be resurrected on significant anniversaries of their deaths, if the proper rituals are performed. Ytwomj died ninety-one years ago, to the month, which made him a candidate for resurrection, but no one wanted to bring him back."

"However," Giles said, "last night the Master sought to resurrect Luke's demon, as part of his creation of the anointed. His act opened a, um, crack between the demonic afterlife and this world. This crack wasn't enough to allow Ytwomj to return, but it did weaken the barriers. That was when the shadow entity stepped in."

"It reached into our worlds from outside and, um, rammed Ytwomj's spirit through the dimensional barriers, ripping open the deathgate. Other demons then followed the pathway thus created, forming the soulstorm. We did manage to bottle that up but all Sunnydale now lies within the necrotic aura of the deathgate."

Willow frowned. "This deathgate still sounds like a hellmouth. They both lead to hell."

"No." Giles said.

"But demons are evil." Willow said. "Dead demons must go to hell."

Giles sighed. "While the demon dimensions are commonly referred to as hells that is actually a misnomer. To humans they would seem like hell but they are actually physical dimensions, not fundamentally different from our own. The various afterlives are, um, different."

"Think of it this way." Giles said, after a short pause. "Our universe is like one house in a great city. We live on the ground floor. Underneath us are the cellars, places of punishment for damned souls, and beneath them are the dark foundations on which the city was built; above us are other floors, the heavens of human legends; further up the gods and powers that be dwell; and all around us are other houses, each a universe like our own. Outside the city lies the outer darkness, where Omega dwells, but the entire city has been infiltrated by its malice. The houses on the outskirts have long since been drowned in shadow. Some have been demolished by their inhabitants at Omega's instigation, which is to say those universes were unmade by its touch. Other have become places of horror, inhabited by Omega's deluded pawns."

Willow smiled, clearly interested, but Buffy also looked strangely intrigued.

"The various demon dimensions start about half way out," Giles continued, "just past the other end of the hellmouth, and come all the way up to our doorstep. As you head inwards, the universes become less corrupt, but even here we are not safe."

"What's it like further in then?" Willow asked. "Must be nice there, away from all the demons."

"Willow," Giles said, "we are in the centre. This is the best of worlds. Life doesn't get any better than this."

Cordelia scowled. If this was the best life could offer she would have a few sharp words for the management, if they dared to show their faces.

Buffy looked at Giles. "That sounds a lot like my dream, except it was a big castle."

"You had a dream?" Giles said. "You didn't say."

"You started talking about all this other weird stuff." Buffy said. "Do you want to know about it?"

"Yes!" Giles said quickly, then paused. "If it wasn't like theirs."

"It wasn't." Buffy said. "I was standing on the tallest tower of a castle under siege. The enemy army had got through the main gate. Their soldiers were occupying the outer rooms but the leaders were outside."

Buffy paused, her face growing pale. "I couldn't see them clearly, but they felt really bad, almost as bad as that sniggering I heard."

Giles smiled. "The forces of darkness, occupying the outer universes, just as I said. What else?"

Buffy pushed her hair back. "There were three people standing with me, but not normal people."

"Describe them." Giles said, leaning forwards.

"There was a young child holding a book. They looked really cute."

"Male or female?" Giles asked.

"Couldn't tell." Buffy said.

"And the others?" Giles asked.

"There was a blindfolded woman holding some scales."

"Either a seer or Justice." Giles said. "What was on the scales, and on which side?"

Buffy blinked. "The castle was on the right hand side. The other side had, um, a heart with seven swords stuck in it."

"Erzulie Gé-Rouge." Giles said. "A symbol of corrupted love."

Cordelia frowned. If that woman was a seer it was probably meant to be her, since she did know about the future. Hopefully, this latest dream wouldn't give her secret away.

"The third was a knight, " Buffy said. "But they were wearing one of those funny hats. You know, the stripy ones with bells on."

That sounded like Xander's idea of fashion, which meant Willow had to be the child.

"I suspect the three figures were your three friends." Giles said. "But I'm unsure which was which."

"Doesn't Xander have to be the knight?" Willow said. "Weren't they all men?"

Giles smiled at Willow. "We are dealing with symbolism. The knight clearly represents someone both noble and foolish, but they could be of any gender."

That still sounded like Xander to Cordelia, apart from the nobility bit. He had always been the foolish one. 

Giles looked back at Buffy. "What happened next?"

"The army fired a catapult at us. Then things changed. A wolf howled in the distance and a old woman appeared. She was giving away rainbow-coloured handcuffs, but no-one wanted any so she killed herself. After that, the child opened its book then giggled while the stars fell from the sky. The woman put her thumb on the left hand scale, and it rained blood. Finally, the knight picked up a sword and the castle walls turned to custard."

"And that was it?" Giles said, "No more details?"

Buffy nodded.

Giles looked slightly disappointed. "It appears to be another warning about what will happen if these three make the wrong choices. I will have to cross-reference the imagery before I can be more specific but, apart from the old woman, I can't see anything of immediate relevance."

Xander looked understandably confused. "What about the old woman? Is she good or bad?"

Giles smiled. "It seems that when she offers you a gift you should accept it, but I've no idea what that gift will be."

"Anything else we need to know?" Cordelia asked, giving Willow a meaningful look.

If Willow didn't stop asking question Giles might still be talking at sunset, which wouldn't be Cordelia's idea of fun.

Cordelia was willing to do research, Giles needed help and it wouldn't look good to refuse, but listening to Giles and Willow discuss esoterica didn't help anyone or do anything for her image.

Willow looked away. "Um, Giles was telling us about the structure of the multiverse."

"Ah, yes, that." Giles mumbled. "Do you remember the metaphor I outlined?"

Before he could elaborate Cordelia quickly nodded.

"Good," Giles said, once everyone had agreed. "The hellmouth is like a door leading to a house further out, but not a flimsy modern door. This door is six feet of solid oak, with a dozen strong steel bolts, and it's set in a wall that could, um, hold Godzilla. Even closed and locked the malice of the Old Ones leaks through, but it can not be opened from their side, only from ours, and then only with a suitable ritual key." 

"We get the picture." Buffy said. "What about this deathgate?"

"The floor of our house makes the walls look like tissue paper but the shadow entity's acts ripped an hole straight though it. That hole is the deathgate, a gaping wound in reality. Almost anything could come through that hole, as long as it's dead, and there is nothing we can do to stop it."

Xander looked at Giles. "You said that seal thing would work."

"That was before I knew about the deathgate." Giles said. "The seal is only a sticking plaster. It will hold in the soulstorm but if anything powerful comes through the seal will fail."

"Can't you brick the hole up?" Willow asked. "Or put a proper door on it, one we can lock?" 

"I wouldn't even know where to start." Giles replied, his tone scornful.

Giles hesitated, then in softer tones continued. "Dame Margo did say the board are investigating options. Before, they've always denied having that kind of power, but if they could keep the Ragnarok vault a secret from the council there's no telling what other tricks they may have up their sleeve. Still, even if the board can do something they won't be doing it today. We are going to have to deal with an unwarded deathgate. We will just have to hope that none of the Old Ones are willing to kill themselves to enter our world."

That sounded like a pretty safe bet to Cordelia. She could understand why Giles was on edge, it seemed like the shadow tree had been wreaking metaphysical havoc, but she suspected he was overreacting. In her experience of the hellmouth worst cases hardly ever happened.

"How will it affect us?" Buffy asked. "You said it had a nektic aura."

"Necrotic." Giles said. "The aura of the deathgate blurs the boundaries between life and death. All necromantic magics will be amplified, for good or ill, and the undead will be strengthened."

Willow looked briefly thoughtful. "Can it amplify the hellmouth, or vice versa? You said positive feedback would be really bad."

"No." Giles said. "That only happens when the loci are sufficiently similar. Both spears amplified martial magic so they could amplify each other. This time the hellmouth amplifies malign magic and the deathgate amplifies necromantic magic."

"But isn't the deathgate itself malign?" Willow asked.

"No." Giles said firmly. "It is morally neutral. It makes it easier to raise an army of zombies, but it also makes it possible to restore an intact corpse to full life without the normal problems."

Willow looked puzzled. "How can it be neutral? It was created by black magic and you said it goes to a bad afterlife."

Giles nodded. "True, but once created it linked to all the spiritual dimensions."

"Aren't they in opposite directions?" Willow asked, then jumped as Xander nudged her.

Giles smiled. "Yes, and no. It's complicated, too complicated for me to explain in full today. All you need to know is that the deathgate gives easier access to all the spiritual dimensions but only the damned will want to enter our world through it. Those enjoying heavenly bliss prefer to stay there."

"Strengthen the undead?" Buffy said. "You mean the vampires will get stronger?"

"And harder to kill." Giles said. "Dame Margo thinks you will need to use a rowan stake or a consecrated blade. Normal wood won't be enough."

"What if I dip them in holy water?" Buffy asked. "Or has that stopped working too?"

"No." Giles said slowly. "You'll need to soak the stakes first, not just wet them, but that should work."

"Why now?" Willow asked. "Why did the dark tower wait until last night."

"Good point." Giles said. "If it could have acted earlier it would have. We believe some unknown factor weakened the barriers. That must be why the future has been changed, because whatever happened made this possible."

"But that happened three weeks ago." Willow objected.

"Yes," Giles conceded, "but last night may have been the first night since then that someone attempted to resurrect a demon. It's not something that happens every day."

Giles nudged his glasses. "We still don't know what happened to trigger these changes, we have so little information to go on, but after last night ..."

Cordelia winced, horribly aware that Giles was missing a vital piece of information. There had to be some connection with her time-travelling, otherwise it would be too big a coincidence. Something else must have come back with her, and used its foreknowledge to mess things up. Either that or she had been tricked into doing something that gave Omega a way in.

If Giles learned about the time-travel he'd probably be able pinpoint the source of the changes and stop them. They wouldn't be able to put things back to normal, not now the deathgate had opened, but they'd stop getting worse leaving Cordelia free to enjoy the benefits of her wish.

Things would be better if Giles knew, but she couldn't tell him. He might fix the present, or he might find some way to cancel her wish, which would not be acceptable. That would mean losing, and Cordelia was no loser.

Giles was looking patiently at Willow. "We can't tell which events were supposed to happen and which are part of the changes ..."

Cordelia frowned. She could, sometimes anyway. She couldn't always distinguish between random changes and enemy action, but she knew which changes were her work and she had some idea how things had been in the original history. She couldn't tell Giles that though.

At least, she couldn't tell Giles how she knew what the future would had been. She could tell him what she knew as long as she lied about the how. She'd have to think about that.

".. can wait." Giles said. "The research is more urgent. You've been excused from class all morning so, if you're willing?"

Willow immediately nodded, beating Cordelia by half a second.

Buffy sighed, "OK."

When Xander finally nodded Giles started picking up books and handing them out.

  
  
As the morning wore on Cordelia leafed through her book, a dull treatise about the interdimensional barriers, and thought about what she could tell Giles.

She would to keep him off-balance, like she had Angel, and say as little as possible. Let him guess how she knew, then confirm his guesses. Flatter him into thinking he was right about everything and he wouldn't start asking awkward questions.

She'd have to tread very carefully, but her plan should work.

When the other left for lunch Cordelia lingered.

After a moment Giles looked up. "Still here?"

"Ripper, we need to talk." Cordelia said.

That should have knocked him off balance. Now all she had to do was keep him there.

Giles did not seem ruffled though. He just smiled and said, "About time, Cordelia."

  


********

  


"Sugar?" Giles asked.

"Three lumps." Cordelia said, endeavouring to sound as if this were part of her normal routine. 

Giles nodded, then started fussing with the teapot.

Cordelia smiled. He was obviously playing for time, which meant he must have been more surprised than he'd looked.

She didn't mind that. She needed a few seconds to think herself.

Clearly, Giles knew something, but what? Had he worked it all out or did he-

Cordelia paused and corrected herself. Giles appeared to know something, but he could just have been bluffing. She'd have to be alert for potential traps like that, or he'd trick her into giving away more than she had to.

She shouldn't really have let him usher her into the office either. Her father had always said, 'make them come to you and the argument's half won.' In fact, her father had said a lot about how he won hostile negotiations, which this meeting was. She'd ignored most of it, business was boring, but after a hundred repetitions some of the boasts were bound to sink in.

Perhaps she should try and remember more of them. Giles was a lot smarter than Harmony or Xander, more like the people her father did business with; the techniques that kept those two in their place might not work very well on him. Her father's methods would work better on Giles. Combine them with her own people-managing skills and Giles wouldn't know what had hit him. 

Cordelia looked round Giles's office, wondering what other tricks he might use to tilt the conversation his way. 

Giles put the tray on the table then sat down and looked at Cordelia expectantly.

Cordelia knew that trick. If she spoke first Giles would ask a few simple questions, each time forcing her to answer or look suspicious. The conversation would quickly fall into a rhythm of question and answer, a rhythm that could lure the unwary into careless talk. Even if she remembered to watch her words, she'd be so busy answering Giles's questions she'd never get a chance to find out what he knew.

She could try asking the first question herself, that might work, but Giles would probably brush it aside and ask what she had wanted to talk to him about.

No, she was better off waiting patiently until Giles gave in.

Giles leaned back in his chair, a chair that looked much more comfortable than Cordelia's. His chair had arms, with decorative carvings, and a padded leather back; hers, dragged in from the main library, had a plain wooden back, no arms, and not enough padding in the seat.

Cordelia smiled inwardly. Like everything else in the office, the chair added to Giles's air of authority, subtly encouraging her to believe he had a right to control the conversation.

Giles smiled as he picked up his cup and saucer.

Cordelia followed suit.

Giles had a sip of tea then looked at Cordelia. "You wanted to talk?"

Giles had already tried this trick but this time she couldn't stay silent, not without looking bad. She would have to try and put the onus on him.

"There was something I wanted to discuss," Cordelia said, careful not to give anything away, "but I got the strong impression you already knew."

"I know you have a secret." Giles said. "I've known that since the day we met but what it is I can't say."

Cordelia took a sip of tea, hoping the cup would hide her surprise. If Giles had really known that long he must be even smarter than she had thought.

Well, even geniuses were vulnerable to flattery.

"But you're smart." Cordelia said, as if stating an indisputable fact. "And I must have given you some clues, or you couldn't have known I was concealing anything. Surely you've been able to work some of it out."

"So you don't think the other people involved would speak to me." Giles said. "Interesting."

Giles had slipped up there, giving her a glimpse of what he suspected, but only because she had slipped up first. If Giles hadn't had any preconceptions he might have realised her phrasing was consistent with Cordelia working alone, which was more than Cordelia wanted to admit this early in the conversation.

"But do you have any ideas?" Cordelia asked, playing for time.

"Many of the possibilities were easy to rule out." Giles said. "In my experience, non-human shape shifters can rarely sustain a convincing masquerade for long. Even in brief conversations their alien mindset is readily apparent."

Cordelia suppressed a smile. Giles could have given a shorter answer, or avoided the question completely, but he'd seized the opportunity to show off his expertise, another trick Cordelia recognised.

She'd used the same technique herself, showing off her superior fashion sense to keep her friends properly respectful. Reminding people how much better you were at the important things was an excellent way to undermine their confidence, the first step to dominating the conversation, but it wasn't a trick that would work on her.

It didn't matter that Giles was smarter and knew more. Her secrets were hers alone. She might choose to tell Giles some of them, when she felt it was really necessary but he had no right to know.

"Furthermore," Giles said, "I can be almost certain that you are the real Cordelia Chase, in both body and soul. Your face shows no trace of plastic surgery, any magical disguise would have been dissolved when you helped cast the spell on Marcie and most forms of possession can be ruled out since none of your friends, other than Willow, appear to have notice any personality changes."

"Has Willow told you anything?" Cordelia asked, genuinely curious.

Giles smiled. "Not knowingly. Willow has been trying to discover what I think about you, but she's been hampered by her apparent wish to do so without alerting me to her suspicions. Since she lacks my watcherly training in, um, difficult conversations I learned rather more from her than she did from me."

Cordelia immediately recognised the implicit threat in that last statement, and dismissed it as quickly. Willow might have lost to Giles but that was no surprise, not the way Willow babbled under pressure. Cordelia knew she would be a much tougher opponent.

What should she ask him next?

Before Cordelia could decide Giles leaned forwards. "What do you know about Ripper?"

Rather than answer immediately Cordelia sipped her tea. 

She'd made a slight misjudgement there, giving Giles the chance to slip a question in, but he had slipped up too, asking her a question to which she had already prepared the answer. Now he had to allow her a few seconds thinking time if he wanted to keep the conversation polite, which he had to do to have any chance of tricking information out of her, a few seconds in which she could think about how to regain lost ground while he thought her mind was safely preoccupied with his last question.

"I know it's your old nickname, and I know why." Cordelia said. "Why haven't you told Buffy about me?"

Talking about Giles's Ripper period was too risky, if she accidentally mentioned something only he should have known he might work out that it had to be him who had told her, but her question should close off that topic and put Giles on the defensive.

"Why haven't you told her about me?" Giles asked.

Cordelia saw no parallel. "Ripper is ancient history. I'm not."

"You are confident of that?" Giles said. "Certain I will never return to my old habits?"

Cordelia was, and not just because of her time-travel. Giles was too smart to make the same mistake twice.

That clearly wasn't the answer Giles wanted though. He wanted her to say 'No', but why? What follow-up did he have planned?

If anyone else had asked self-incriminating questions in the middle of a fraught conversation she would have assumed they were about to crack but not Giles. With someone as smart as him, someone who frequently displayed impressive verbal skills, she had to assume every word was picked for maximum effect.

That left only one explanation.

Giles must have seen a parallel between the reasons he believed she hadn't told Buffy about his secret and the reasons he hadn't told Buffy about hers, though she had no idea what.

Rather than just answer the question Giles had actually asked Cordelia decided it would be more impressive to address the point he was actually making. Hopefully he'd be startled by her unexpected acumen.

"Certain enough. Telling Buffy now would cause too many problems." Cordelia said. "How can you be so certain that I'm as harmless as you?"

Buffy would have to be told one day, so she would be prepared for Eyghon, but not for months yet, and certainly not until Buffy knew Giles well enough that finding out wouldn't affect their partnership.

Giles looked at his cup. "We watchers are required to assume that all humans are innocent unless we find clear evidence of evildoing. Keeping secrets does not constitute such evidence, so I could only watch and try to discern your intent."

"Did you?" Cordelia asked.

Giles nodded. "It didn't take long to decide your short term plans were benign. It didn't take much longer to recognise the marks left by your training."

Training? The only training Cordelia had ever had was in cheerleading, not something Giles had any interest in. He had to be thinking about something occult-related, probably part of his theory about her actions.

"Marks?" Cordelia said, offering Giles another chance to show off. While he was trying to intimidate her with his big brain he might give away his theory, which would make it much easier for Cordelia to play along with it.

"You've been using concealer to hide your bruises." Giles said, glancing at her bare arms. "Why? Other people will ignore all evidence of the unusual, even if it's in plain sight."

Cordelia frowned. Giles had concealed his point behind an apparent non-sequitur, not a common tactic in her circle. Well, if he thought she'd get confused by his elliptical conversation he was wrong.

After spending a few moments trying to work out why Giles had asked that particular question Cordelia decided it didn't matter. None of the reasons would give anything away.

"People may not need help to ignore the unusual," Cordelia said, repeating the advice Giles had given the summer Buffy ran away, "but that doesn't mean there is no need for discretion. People will invent explanations firmly rooted in the quotidian world for any oddities in our behaviour but they may not be such as we would welcome. Misunderstandings are too likely to be lethal, to them or to us. It is better that we remain superficially normal, that our actions might pass unremarked." 

Bruises were also ugly, but telling Giles that wouldn't make her look good.

Giles smiled. "That was very nearly a direct quote from the training manual."

It was? Then it was obvious who Giles thought she'd been trained by. There was only one training manual he should know well enough to recognise quotes from.

Cordelia concentrated, trying to work out how she could safely take advantage of Giles's misconception.

"Don't worry." Giles said. "That was only the third time you've used such a blatant quote. You've done an excellent job of concealing your sources but you couldn't hope to succeed."

Cordelia shrugged off Giles's latest sally. The first thing she needed to do was get Giles to admit they both knew what he was thinking.

"You think I'm a watcher?" Cordelia said, trying to sound as if she was faking scepticism in an effort to divert Giles from the truth, an difficult piece of acting, but not beyond a performer of her undoubted skills.

Giles chuckled. "Hardly! You are far too young."

Giles looked at Cordelia, then continued. "But you've clearly been trained by a watcher. You've been asking leading questions, haven't you?"

Cordelia nodded.

"Questions carefully phrased to rule out the wrong answers but," Giles said, his tone now didactical, "you can only rule out the alternatives you know about. Every question you ask reveals the assumptions that underlie it. Your questions showed you think about the supernatural the way we watchers do. You must have spent months in the company of a watcher.

Despite herself, Cordelia was impressed. Giles was right. She really had spent the last year hanging round a watcher, picking up esoteric trivia by osmosis. It seemed she'd picked up some watcherish habits too, probably only minor tics, but not minor enough to escape Giles's attention.

The only detail Giles had missed was that he was the watcher in question, no great surprise when he must know dozens of more plausible candidates.

"You noticed that?" Cordelia said, giving herself more time to think.

Giles was smarter than she had realised, and observant enough that he had noticed the subtle marks a year of his company had left on her. That was an almost Holmesian level of deduction, a display of intelligent that far outclassed anything Willow had yet managed. It might just be that Giles had so much more experience than Willow, or he might be a real genius.

Well, it didn't matter how smart he was. He was still only human. There was no way he could trick her into admitting she'd time-travelled, no way at all.

Giles nodded. "When you have spent as much time in the company of watchers as I the shared traits do become rather obvious. There are certain habits of thought, certain mannerisms and forms of speech, with which our common experience has imbued us."

Giles shrugged. "Naturally, the traces your watcher contact has left on you are much fainter, only noticeable to the expert eye. However there are times when you sound almost like a trainee watcher."

Cordelia froze, unsure whether she had just been insulted or complimented. Giles had to be exaggerating, a lot, but even so, that was not something she'd ever expected to hear.

"Biscuit?" Giles said, pushing the plate towards Cordelia.

Cordelia picked a cookie up, looked at it, then put it on the saucer.

OK, so Giles thought she was secretly involved with another watcher. How could she exploit that?

It would make it harder to dissemble, since Giles knew much more about the watchers than she did, but there were advantages. Giles was bound to find it much easier to trust his fellow watchers than any group of strangers Cordelia invented. It wouldn't be difficult to persuade him to trust in the watcher plan he thought Cordelia was a part of, and from that it would only be a small step to persuade him to trust Cordelia herself.

That approach would also keep the lying to a minimum, easing her conscience. She could tell the truth about some of her future experience with Giles, and let him think she was talking about a non-existent watcher. 

"Who was your contact?" Giles asked.

Cordelia nibbled daintily at the cookie. She could refuse to give any name, but that would make it harder to talk about the supposed contact. A real name would be too easy to prove false and Giles would recognise a fake, but did that matter? She didn't want Giles to think she was making things up but she didn't care what he thought about the contact.

"Winston Thatcher-Lennon-Smythe." Cordelia said, deliberately picking a name that sounded too English to be real. "That's what I called him but I don't think it was his real name."

"An obvious alias." Giles agreed. "This Winston must have been acting without official council sanction. What did he look like?"

Cordelia couldn't answer that question; any description she gave might resemble too closely a real watcher.

"I can't answer that." Cordelia said. "Winston might get in trouble."

"He seems to have abandoned you." Giles said dryly.

Cordelia nodded. If Winston had been real she wouldn't have talked to Giles with him still around, not by herself.

"He couldn't be here if you were." Cordelia said, quite truthfully.

Winston couldn't be anywhere, since he didn't exist, and the future Giles she was really talking about couldn't be here now, not without creating a lot of problems.

"How did he recruit you?" Giles asked.

Cordelia cast her mind back, thinking about how she had drifted into the weirdness.

"He was insufficiently discreet," she said smiling. "When I started asking questions he told me the truth. He clearly needed my help and I could hardly turn him down, not when our work is so important."

Of course Giles had never actually admitted needing her help. He hadn't needed to. Anyone forced to rely on the likes of Willow and Xander had to be desperate.

"How did you know him?"

"I can't answer that." Cordelia said. At least, not until she had a chance to manufacture corroborating evidence.

"Literally?" Giles said. "Or do you mean won't? If you are under any constraints, magical or-"

"Nothing like that." Cordelia said firmly, not wanting to give Giles any excuse to use magic on her.

"What then?" Giles asked.

Cordelia thought quickly. She needed a reason to stay silent that Giles would accept, preferably one that covered all the questions she didn't want to answer. She had thought of a few possibilities earlier, while reading through that dull tome, generic explanations that would have worked whatever Giles believed. They needed a little tweaking now she knew what Giles actually believed but that wouldn't be difficult.

"Winston trusted me." Cordelia said. "If I broke his trust at the first excuse he would be disappointed."

"And yet you have told me of his existence." Giles said.

Cordelia smiled. "I'e told you nothing you hadn't already discovered."

"So far." Giles said. "I presume you did intend to do more than merely tell me you have secrets."

"Only because of the extraordinary circumstances." Cordelia said. "I don't like breaking promises unnecessarily. This is necessary. There are things you need to know. Winston is not one of them. I'm sure if you needed to know about him you would have been told."

"Winston is clearly a rogue." Giles said sharply. "If he had told anyone about his plans he would have been fired."

Giles looked at Cordelia then sighed . "I can't make you tell me anything but I can't fully trust you until I know the whole truth."

Cordelia struggled to keep her face calm. Giles had just surrendered! He'd given in completely, and admitted it.

Of course, her victory had been inevitable from the start. The only surprise was that Giles had given in so soon.

At least, he seemed to have given up. Giles was a good actor, almost as good as Cordelia herself, and he was dangerously clever. As her father said, 'some people never stop looking for an edge. Relax around one of them and they can talk you into selling the farm. You have to find out what they are really after, and let them know you've seen through their ruses.'

Which reminded her, she had been assuming that Giles wanted to keep his theory a secret but she had no real evidence for that assumption. He might have just been using that as bait to keep her from noticing his real motivations. He was certainly smart enough for that kind of chicanery.

"However," Giles said. "You might wish to reconsider if Winston is worthy of your loyalty. He lured you into the occult, all but guaranteeing your premature death, then abandoned you when he was most needed, and he didn't even have the decency to tell you his real name."

"Death?" Cordelia echoed. She knew being involved with the weirdness was risky, she'd realised that long before it became part of her routine, but Giles had never said death was a risk before.

"He didn't tell you-" Giles said. "Um, I mean, I-It's nothing, really. Forget I mentioned it."

Cordelia certainly wasn't going to fall for that act. That had not been a slip of the tongue; that had been a deliberate revelation. Giles wanted her to ask questions, presumably as part of some greater strategy; he didn't want her to realise the questions were his idea.

Cordelia wondered briefly about his motivations, then decided that could wait. Finding out what Giles meant by guaranteed death was more important.

She looked Giles in the eye. "My death is not nothing."

Giles looked down at the tea tray, a piece of elegant silverware that was definitely not school property.

"Well?" Cordelia said when Giles stayed silent.

"I should say that it has not yet been proved that this is more than a coincidence." Giles began.

"However, as far as we can tell, few field watchers have ever died a natural death. There are many cases where no body was found, and the older records are incomplete, but the pattern is suggestive. Even the headquarters staff have a statistically anomalous rate of early death, mostly due to unexplained accidents."

Cordelia could see why that might concern Giles but what did it have to do with her? She wasn't a watcher.

"We on the front line are less lucky." Giles said quietly. "We always seem to die ... unpleasant deaths, killed by the demons we fight."

Giles looked up. "Has Buffy told you how her first watcher died?"

Cordelia shook her head. She had never even been told his name.

"He was forced to shoot himself. If he hadn't Lothos would have turned him and Buffy would have died not long after. The previous watcher only outlived her slayer by two days. A vespoid demon had injected her with its spawn. They ate her alive, from the inside out, and she was conscious throughout." 

Cordelia shuddered, remembering her nightmares, remembering how it had felt to see the maggots squirming beneath her skin, remembering-

"Another biscuit?" Giles said in the same calm tones he had used to convince Buffy that cutting her mother's tongue out was a perfectly reasonable course of action.

"Deny the memories, Cordelia." Giles said, sounding worried. "You must deny them."

Cordelia focused on Giles, reminding herself he had never really done those things, not even in his Ripper days.

She had to think about her next question, not ... that, or evil would have won another victory.

"What has this got to do with me?" Cordelia asked, her voice barely wavering. "I'm not a watcher."

Giles nodded approvingly. "Our records of non-watchers are less comprehensive, but the same trend is clear. Anyone who chooses to fight demons, as you have done-'

"I've what?" Cordelia said. "I never did. That's Buffy's job."

And she was welcome to it. Cordelia was willing to help, she could hardly refuse when Buffy so desperately needed her invaluable support, but she had no intention of making demon-fighting her career. Once she graduated she'd be able to leave all the Sunnydale weirdness behind her, and live a normal life again.

"Buffy was chosen. You chose." Giles said. "It makes little difference now. Even after you learned the truth you could have chosen to hide from it. You didn't. You chose to fight. That is what matters."

"I didn't sign up for a grand crusade." Cordelia said firmly. "I don't want to spend my life fighting vampires and demons. I'm only helping now because I don't want people to die."

Cordelia hesitated, trying to think of the best phrasing. She didn't want to make herself look bad but she didn't want Giles thinking she was like Buffy either. 

"Do you think you could ever stop helping?" Giles asked. "If in twenty years you spot a vampire will you do nothing? Will you be able to stand back and let it kill as it pleases?"

"No." Cordelia said hotly. No decent person would be able to do that. Letting people die when you could realistically have saved their lives wasn't much better than actually killing them.

She wouldn't want to fight it, especially not when she was that old, but she would need to make sure the right people knew. She supposed she might even need to do something herself, if there was really no alternative.

"It has been suggested that is why so many active watchers die young." Giles said. "Wherever you go you will inevitably encounter vampires and demons."

"Not after I leave Sunnydale."

"Even then. They are not confined to the hellmouth; they just congregate here. No city is free of them. If you are lucky, and I hope you are, you might go for years without meeting any but, so long as you remain unwilling to watch people die, when you do meet them you will feel obliged to take action. Eventually your luck will run out."

That couldn't be the whole truth, it didn't explain the headquarter's staff, but it did sound plausible.

Cordelia wasn't worried though. She had already survived over a year on the hellmouth, she could certainly survive a lifetime away from it.

She wasn't worried but Giles clearly expected her to be, which meant he was trying to disturb her. Why?

Cordelia faked a despondent expression, as if she were thinking about the prospect of death, and thought over what Giles had said. What did he have to gain by making her worry?

He wanted to nudge her thoughts in his favour, which hadn't worked, but he was hampered by his false assumptions. She needed to work out what he would have expected her to think if Winston had been real.

Cordelia smiled, realising the answer. Giles was trying to undermine her trust in the watcher who had trained her, not realising he was that watcher.

"Why didn't you warn me?" Cordelia asked, wondering what excuse Giles would make.

"It was too late for you. As for Xander and Willow, would it have made any difference?"

Well, Cordelia knew she wouldn't have refused to help someone just because of a vague warning. Willow and Xander lacked her moral fibre, their affair showed that, but she didn't think either of them was that selfish.

"No," Cordelia said. "But-"

"Then it is better for them that they not know." Giles said. "I failed to protect them from knowledge of the vampire threat. I will protect their remaining innocence."

A noble-sounding sentiment but Cordelia wasn't impressed. She'd never sought any such protection and if Giles really believed what he just said he wouldn't have told her anything. He was probably just following the standard watcher policy.

Cordelia looked Giles in the eye. "So why tell me?"

"I would rather not have." Giles said with a straight face, "but if you will ask me questions you must expect answers."

Cordelia didn't believe that for a moment but she couldn't call Giles a liar to his face, not and hope to get anything out of the conversation.

"So," Giles said smiling. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Corelia smiled back. "I don't want you to tell anyone else about this."

She'd avoided the question long enough to learn a good bit about what Giles was thinking; now it was time to tell Giles what he needed to know.

Giles nodded. "As long as it endangers no one I will keep your secrets."

That would have to do.

"During my time with Winston I saw the future that would have been, if this Omega-guy hadn't messed things up."

"But no longer?" Giles asked, looking intrigued. "There are said to be ways to induce vision."

Cordelia nodded. "What I saw was much more detailed than the normal cryptic gibberish."

"Hence Marcie." Giles said. "Did you mean her to die?"

"No." Cordelia said sharply. "That was unexpected. If we hadn't found her she would have gone mad and tried to kill me."

"Which means you've been trying to change the future."

Cordelia glared at Giles. "You can't blame me. I'm only human. Nothing I could do could have this much effect." 

"One pebble can not divert a river," Giles agreed. "But the ripples may be visible for many yards downstream. What use is knowledge of a future that will not now be?"

It was obvious what Giles was doing but Cordelia wasn't going to be tricked into handing her information over for free.

"Lots." she replied. "Not everything has changed. I know what the annointed one looks like and who you will be dating next."

"You k-k-know?" Giles said. "B-but-"

Giles stopped and had a long drink of tea.

"Few prophecies are that detailed," he said, sounding calmer. "And with good reason. For anyone to know to much about their own future carries more dangers than the obvious." 

"You see why I didn't want to tell anyone?" Cordelia asked, pressing home her advantage. "I might have said too much."

Giles put his cup back down. "Why tell me now?"

"If we compare what I saw-" Cordelia began.

"With what has actually happened. Yes, that should be useful. We'll need to establish how much it's safe for me to know, but..."

Giles trailed off into a thoughtful silence.

Cordelia smiled. She couldn't tell what Giles was really thinking but, whatever doubts he might be hiding, he seemed willing to act as though he believed her story, which was enough for now.

"First though," Giles said abruptly, "I will need a convincing demonstration of your foresight. I presume you intended to tell me about what was to have happened next?"

That question Cordelia had prepared for.

"I did not see all the details." she cautioned, "and you agree there are things I should be careful about mentioning."

Giles smiled. "Too much detail could be dangerous. Just tell me what you can."

"You know about the zoo visit on Monday?"

Giles picked up a letter and passed it to Cordelia. "It's been rescheduled for tomorrow."

Cordelia glanced at the letter, something about an official visit by the Mayor on Monday, then groaned. "We don't have much time."

It shouldn't be that difficult to keep Xander away from the hyenas but she'd hoped to have a few peaceful days' relaxation before the next crisis.

"A day is more warning than we normally get." Giles said. "What about the zoo?"

Cordelia half-smiled. "Xander will get a little too close to the animals."


	10. Cordelia's Ghost: Bad blood

When Cordelia finally got out of the library she leaned against the wall, mentally exhausted.

She'd won, of course, got most of what she wanted and given nothing away, but it had been a narrow victory, requiring all her considerable skill. If it hadn't been for Giles's little slips she might have cracked.

She'd need to do a lot more preparation for the next talk, and there would be a next talk, Giles hadn't given her much choice there.  
  
"Cordelia." Harmony said with false sweetness. "We missed you this morning. You must tell us where you've been."

"Where were you last night?" Aura added. "Did you really have a date with a college guy?"

Cordelia sighed, then turned to face them.

Aura looked genuinely curious; she clearly had no idea how sensitive that question was. 

Harmony did, but she didn't seem bothered. She just smiled and ostentatiously straightened her outfit, not a good move. Harmony's outfit was more elegant than normal, but bright red was most definitely not her colour. 

"Yes," Harmony said. "Do tell."

Cordelia scowled. If Harmony thought she could get away with that attitude after the atrocious way she'd acted the previous night she was even more stupid than Cordelia had suspected.

"Have you forgotten already?" Cordelia said sharply. "You were there."

"I was in the Bronze." Harmony said, then looked at Aura. "She did not leave with me. She left with Buffy and her freak friends. She probably spent the morning with them too."

Cordelia smiled at Aura. "Harmony never did have a good memory, did she?"

For a moment Harmony looked strangely amused, her lips twitching into a genuine smile, but then her face tightened.

"At least I can remember who my real friends are."

Still looking at Aura, Cordelia nodded. "I suppose managing to remember two names might be considered an achievement, by some people."

Aura winced, looked at Harmony, then looked back at Cordelia.

"She," Cordelia continued, "has clearly forgotten what I told her only last month, that I have been rehearsing for the talent show."

Aura stepped backwards. "Um, I've remembered. I've, um, got to go. I've got t-to talk to a teacher about my work. She's waiting for me."

Aura turned round and hurried down the corridor.

Harmony smiled. "You think she might have noticed?"

Cordelia nodded. "How could she not? You-"

"Not me!" Harmony said sharply. "You. You've-"

"Me?" Cordelia said. "I'm not the one who brought up last night."

Harmony laughed scornfully. "You didn't have to. You're a freak now, and everyone kn-"

Cordelia moved closer to Harmony, menacingly close. "You will not say that, ever."

Harmony stood her ground. "Or what? You'll set Buffy on me?"

"No." Cordelia said quietly, though the idea was not without appeal, "I will cut you dead, and where I lead, everyone follows."

Harmony glared unwaveringly at Cordelia. "Not any more. You are not the woman you were."

"Enough." Cordelia snapped. "I know last night was ... unpleasant."

A pallid word that, but there were no words for what she had seen, no words that could capture the depths of the horrors to which she had been an helpless witness.

Cordelia shuddered, trying to remember what she'd been about to say.

"Unpleasant?" Harmony said. "Understatement much? Unpleasant is Xander's clothes or Willow's face. Last night was worse. Last night was absolute torture, and you will apologise for it. You will fall to your knees and -"

"An apology? After the way you acted?"

Harmony sighed. "I explained that last night. N-"

"You lied last night, Harmony." Cordelia said flatly. "To my face. Since you had enough mental composure to think up that smear you must have had enough to know better. Buffy may be a loser but there are limits."

Pointing out the many flaws of the losers was practically a duty, simple honesty required no less, but making up gossip was a step too far, and not just because it was dishonest.

"Clearly," Harmony said, "you didn't understand what I said. Perhaps if I repeat it more slowly, with smaller words, you will be able to understand."

"Harmony," Cordelia said sharply. "Even you couldn't be stupid enough to believe what you just said. Ap-"

"Listen carefully." Harmony said, as if Cordelia hadn't spoken. "I am normal. You are not. Normal people, like me, are not used to weird stuff. Weird people, like you, are. When weird stuff hap-"

"I am not weird." Cordelia said. "I am normal."

"You? Normal?" Harmony sneered. "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"I am normal." Cordelia repeated. "It is Sunnydale that isn't. You were there last night. You saw."

Cordelia tried to look sympathetic. "Clearly, you saw too much."

Harmony nodded. "I saw what you've been trying to hide."

Ignoring that feeble riposte, Cordelia continued "And your mind cracked. It's your fault, of course. You should have known better than to follow me, not that it matters now. All that-"

"Whose fault?" Harmony said disbelievingly. "You know your friends have always followed where you lead. You should have realised what would happen. And my mind didn't crack."

"Have you tried listening to yourself?" Cordelia said. "You wouldn't be talking to me this way if you were in your right mind."

Cordelia shrugged. "At least you can still pass for normal; most people would have been gibbering wrecks after last night, what with the torture and the shadows and the dreams. Your mind was only bruised, not broken. You'll be your old self again in a few weeks, with my help."

Help Cordelia was certain Harmony wouldn't want. Harmony had definitely suffered some kind of mental trauma last night, even someone as blind to emotional nuances as Willow would be able to see that, but she wasn't acting like someone who had been terrified.

Harmony wasn't starting at shadows, quite the opposite. She was meeting Cordelia's gaze unflinchingly, as she had never before dared do.

No, there had to be reasons other than the memory of fear for Harmony's new attitude. Cordelia had no idea what they might be, not yet, but she'd uncover them soon enough. 

"I'm sure you'd just love that." Harmony said, her voice unexpectedly sarcastic. "You're the one who got me into this, deliberately. You po-"

Harmony bit off the word, then swiftly changed tack. "You're nothing like the Cordelia I used to know. You can't expect me to treat you like I did her."

Cordelia watched Harmony walk away down the corridor and smiled. Whatever was bothering Harmony couldn't be anything serious, just the light relief she needed to distract herself from impending apocalypse.   


  


  
Twenty-five minutes later, after an hurried lunch, Cordelia was sat in the temporary science lab, half-listening to the teacher drone on.

She needed to work out what to do about Giles. He'd accepted her story, for now, but Giles was too smart not to look for corroborating evidence, evidence she would have to manufacture.

If she really had been working with a watcher in secret for months what traces would he have left, apart from the effects on her vocabulary?

"... half-fill with water," Mr Ward said, turning on the tap. "Then-"

Cordelia looked up.

The water was running pink.

Looking startled, Mr Ward dropped the beaker, then hastily turned off the tap.

The tap began to vibrate.

"A plumbing problem?" Mr Ward said.

The vibrations grew louder.

Willow nudged Xander, then put covered her ears and ducked under the desk.

Cordelia followed suit. Two seconds later, so did Harmony.

"It's only the plumbing." Mr Ward shouted, barely audible above the noise. "Don't-"

A final thunderous blast silenced Mr Ward, then the stench of blood swamped the room.

Her ears still ringing, Cordelia stood up and looked round. She had to know what was happening, or she wouldn't be able to tell Buffy what needed doing.

There was blood everywhere; dripping from the ceiling, oozing down the walls, pooling on the floor, more blood than Cordelia had ever seen outside her nightmares, even when Kevin died.

Most of the class was staring numbly at the blood, seemingly too shocked to move, but Harmony just looked curious.

Aura grabbed a lock of her blood-soaked hair, as if to wring it dry, then recoiled in disgust.

The broken tap was stuck in the ceiling, directly over the sink, and from the hole where it had been more blood gushed, an endless torrent to delight any vampire's heart.

Gwen closed her eyes and started mumbling "Not real. Not real," over and over.

Mr Ward struggled to his feet, then stepped forward to look at the blood fountain.

"That's certainly not the typical plumbing problem." Mr Ward said with mingled curiosity and disgust, "Can't be blood. It would have clotted. Smells the same though. Hmm."

Larry glanced down at his bloodstained hands, shuddered, then began feverishly wiping them on his pants.

Willow looked hesitantly at Buffy. "A omen? It could be a omen. Maybe something bad is happening, or-"

"Something bad is always happening." Buffy said, watching the sink warily.

"Something worse." Willow said quietly.

Xander smiled. "Or maybe the vamps are just playing tricks."

"We need Giles." Cordelia said, and not just because he'd be able to explain the blood. He'd also clean up the mess, shield them from awkward question, and generally help everyone pretend life was normal.

Xander scowled at her. "You going to run off and fetch him?"

Certainly not. That was the kind of thing she'd done before her wish, the kind of vital but easily-overlooked help that had left her on the sidelines. This time round she needed to be in the centre of the gang, where she could make sure Xander was properly punished for his affair and use her wish-granted foresight to steer Buffy in the right direction, which meant she needed be close behind Buffy when the action started.

Besides, the blood didn't seem to be dangerous. Disgusting, yes, but not actually dangerous. 

Cordelia glared back at Xander. "Certainly not. Harmony can go."

Harmony quickly nodded and stood up, then stiffened. "And leave you here with the other freaks? You'll forget yourself and do something weird."

Harmony smiled. "Think how lucky you are to have a friend like me, someone who can remind you how normal people act when you get these bizarre urges. Aura will go."

"This is my classroom." Mr Ward said. "I decide who fetches the janitor."

Jonathan looked up, his eyes wide with terror. "S-shouldn't we e-evacuate the classroom? We c-can't continue with the l-lesson now."

Mr Ward hesitated, then nodded. "It will take the janitor a while to clean this mess up. You may leave."

Jonathan dashed for the door, closely followed by half the class, but the rest just sat there, paralysed by fear.

As the mob struggled to get through the door Cordelia looked sternly at Jonathan. "Tell Giles."

"He's a librarian." Mr Ward said. "He's not interested in plumbing."

Xander smiled. "Librarians need hobbies."

An eyeball plopped out of the sink, was carried up the fountain, then hovered at the top, defying the current.

"Um," Willow said. "I don't think it's an omen."

Her gaze fixed on the eyeball, Buffy nodded. "Never heard of anything like this."

A second eyeball plopped out of the sink, following the same path as the first.

"Impossible." Mr Ward said. "Any debris should collect in the pool."

A third eyeball joined the others.

"Mr Ward." Buffy said. "You should leave too. Go and, um, do teacher stuff."

Willow nodded. "You need to make alternative arrangements for the class that was have been in this room next period. Staying here isn't safe."

As another eyeball came out of the sink Cordelia edged her chair backwards.

Mr Ward sighed. "This is just a plumbing problem, somewhat atypical yes, but nothing a professional plumber would find unusual. They doubtless deal with this kind of problem every day."

"Only in Sunnydale." Xander said.

A fifth eyeball spiralled up the fountain.

"Where's Giles?" Buffy said, with a trace of petulance. "He'll know what's going on."

The blood fountain shuddered, then swelled, swiftly growing to ceiling height as its shape shifted.

Mr Ward blanched, then flattened himself against the blackboard and put his hands over his eyes.

Cordelia shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's just a demon. Kill it."

Buffy looked at the demon, now a five-sided column, eight feet tall, with a single eye glaring from high in each mirror smooth face, then looked back at Cordelia. "How?" 

"Eureka," the demon said, its eyes twirling anticlockwise, then started babbling in a strange language.

Willow looked briefly thoughtful. "I think that's Greek."

Harmony laughed. "The geek speaks Greek, what a surprise."

Willow twitched. "I don't speak it, not yet anyway, it might be interesting to learn and I'd be able to read some of Giles's more esoteric books, but there are a lot of technical words with Greek roots, words like pneumocephalic or anootic. I don't know what it's saying, I'd need to see it written down first, but I do recognise enough of what it's saying to be able to tell that it's either speaking Greek or saying something very technical."

Xander looked blankly at Willow. "You think this thing is Greek?"

Willow nodded. "Either that, or it's been dead a long time."

The demon stopped babbling, hesitated, then started again, this time louder.

"That sounds more like Latin." Willow said

Cordelia nodded. She'd heard enough Latin from Giles to recognise the cadence of that language.

"I don't care where it comes from." Buffy said. "It's not staying here."

The demon paused, its eyes twirling clockwise, then flowed towards Mr Ward.

Harmony looked at Buffy. "Don't just stand there. Kill the monster, now."

One side of the demon rippled.

Buffy glanced back at Harmony, clearly displeased. "That's what-"

A blood-red tentacle shot out of the ripples, hitting Mr Ward in the centre of his forehead.

Mr Ward crumpled inwards, his skin tearing as it folded up.

Cordelia stared, trying to work out what had just happened. She'd seen people die before but there was normally more blood.

There was normally more body too, not just skin and hair. The demon must have done something with the rest of Mr Ward, something nasty, but it had happened so fast, faster than even Buffy could react.

There was something familiar about Mr Ward's death though. She'd never seen anyone die that way before, but she had heard about something similar.

Cordelia closed her eyes, trying to remember the details.

Of course, the swim team. The coach had turned them all into monsters, but when they'd changed they'd left their human skins behind. 

That definitely wasn't what had just happened, so she couldn't use that experience directly, but she'd done some reading about demons who killed that way during the incident, reading that might prove useful now.

"Finally." the demon said. "Now that I have wrested the keys to your uncouth tongue from your elder's feeble mind even your pathetic little brains, incapable of true thought though they be, will be able to comprehend the folly of your actions, the fulness of my éclat, and the utter futility of resistance."

Great, Cordelia thought, a gloater. The more time it spent boasting the more time she would have to work out how Buffy could kill it.

"Who are you?" Willow asked. "What do you want?"

Xander twitched.

The demon's eyes twirled clockwise. "I will not have the name bestowed upon me by the great lord sullied by the unworthy tongues of malformed monkeys. You will address me as knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood."

"Or," Buffy said, "we could just kill you."

The demon chuckled "You puling brats? Kill me? Your friends are mere humans, talking cattle, and you, little spear, are young in your power. Without a guardian, to offer what passes for wisdom among your crude kind, you are helpless against my puissance. A knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood is not so easily defeated."

"Spear?" Willow said quietly.

The demon's left front side bulged, rapidly forming a new tentacle, which it pointed at Buffy.

"That slattern. I am no mere nightwalker or mindeater, easily lured to my death by the semblance of human weakness that hides your peculated strength. I am a knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood, and I detected the peculiar reek of her soul the moment I escaped the afterworld." 

The demon paused, its blood bubbling in what it probably thought was a dramatic manner.

"She is the one you whimpering mortals call the Spear of the Guardians, Herald of Dawn, Sole Hope of Man, Bane of Nightmares and The Midnight Sun; and all your denials are but empty air."

"These days," Xander said dryly, "we just call her the slayer." 

Looking half-embarassed half-amused Buffy muttered, "I prefer Buffy. 

Ignoring them, Harmony looked straight at the demon, trembling only slightly. "Is there something you want, or are you just trying to bore us to death?"

"I, a knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood, know my duty to the great lord and the gods we serve. Other demons may waste their strength in a struggle for dominance over the fetid sewers of this cesspit but I have a greater purpose. I am a knight errant of the great lord. I have kept my oaths for a hundred centuries, and I keep them still. "

"That's nice." Cordelia said tartly. "Now tell us why you're here."

It probably wouldn't say anything useful, but the longer it spent talking the better.

"Second," the demon said, "among my oaths was extirpate all evil. That is why I have come, for there is evil present here to rival the First. I, knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood, can not permit it to live."

"You're going to kill yourself?" Xander said, looking surprised. "I'm-"

"No, insolent whelp," the demon said. "I am not evil. I have slain a myriad harbingers, and destroyed seventeen temples dedicated to the First. You are the ones who are evil. You have consorted with an Herald of the Last, and one amongst you has dared speak the midnight tongue. For those vile deeds there can only be one punishment."

"What deeds?" Harmony snapped. "I don't know about those freaks but I haven't killed anyone, and neither has Cordelia. You have. We saw you kill him, so don't pretend you're not evil. The only, um, -"

The demon laughed. "Such vanity! Human lives don't matter. You are a lesser breed, the pets of third-rate gods, bred as a mockery of my people. You live only a few short years; I can outlive the very hills. You are deaf to the song of magic; I can shape it at will. You-"

Cordelia tuned out the demon's rant; doubtless just a sequence of self-aggrandising lies.

How could Buffy kill it? She certainly couldn't risk touching it, she might end up like Mr Ward, so all she could do was throw stuff at it. The textbooks wouldn't be any use, too light, and the desks were too heavy, Buffy could pick them up but Cordelia didn't think she'd be able to get enough range with them, so throwing stuff was out. 

The other option was to find some kind of weak point, a vulnerability Buffy could exploit. The demons obviously had one, or it wouldn't spend so much time boasting about its strength; she just had to find it, preferably before Giles turned up.

Passively waiting until Giles told Buffy how to save the day wouldn't look too good.

She didn't have his advantages though. He must have spent years studying demons, learning how to identify their weaknesses; she only had one year's experience, and she'd tried to avoid reading all those dull books, books written by watchers for watchers, books no watcher would be without.

Cordelia smiled, glad to have solved at least one of her problems. She just had to buy a bunch of old occult books then tell Giles that Winston had left them behind when he had to leave town. Once Giles saw she had physical evidence to back up her story he'd have to accept it as true.

"-And that is why I have the right to do as I will with all that lives."

"You are trying to bore us to death." Xander said, smiling. "It won't-"

The doorknob rattled, then began to turn.

Cordelia leaned forward, looking expectantly at the door. Giles would-

Startled, Cordelia blinked.

There wasn't a door there anymore, just a plank of wood firmly embedded in the walls.

"Buffy," Giles shouted, "Remember what I said last night. They can restore their old appearance b-" 

Giles was cut off mid-sentence, probably by magic.

That was two spells the demon had cast, without all the flashing lights and mystic gibberish Cordelia had learned to associate with magic. It hadn't needed to chant, it hadn't even bothered pointing, it had just gone straight from thought to deed.

Well, almost straight. The demon had taken perhaps a second to respond when Giles tried opening the door, and another second when Giles started talking. It was a quick response by most standards, but it wouldn't be quick enough to beat Buffy.

"That won't keep Giles out," Buffy said, fiddling with her pen. "He knows about magic."

"He is only human." the demon said flatly. "True magic is beyond his feeble comprehension. He will not enter this room until you have left this world. His despair shall be most amusing."

"You want to kill us?" Harmony said, smiling strangely. "Get on with it, and kill me first."

"Do I look like a mooncalf?" the demon asked. "Other demons may be blind to the dangers inherent in your death but I am a knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood. I do not make such errors."

"Um, what dangers?" Willow asked. "What can- Oh! Ghosts. You're worried we might haunt you, but what about Mr Ward?"

Cordelia nodded. From what Giles had said about the deathgate and what she'd read that morning, it sounded like death was going to be less final now. Anyone with half an excuse to become a ghost would be able to haunt their killer, and violent death would certainly qualify.

Unfortunately, most demons were too stupid to think about that, but they'd find out soon enough.

Cordelia smiled, imagining the master's reaction when ghosts started swarming round him. If the ghosts could drive the demons away from the hellmouth, the deathgate wouldn't be all bad.

"Your tutor had not consorted with an Herald of the Last. His shade can hold no fear for me, but your souls are unclean. I will not loose such horrors on my world."

That was the second time it had accused them of doing bad stuff, probably because they'd helped kill a few vampires.

"The last?" Willow said, looking thoughtful. "You mean Omega?"

"Omega, Unbeing, the great unraveller; I care not by what pet name what you call my enemy. Four of you have consorted with its herald." The demon hesitated, its eyes lazily tumbling in place. "And, impudent querist, there is another blot on your soul. You dared speak the midnight tongue. For that crime alone, your soul is forfeit."

"The only people she has consorted with are these freaks." Harmony said hotly. "Let her go."

The demon laughed scornfully. "I can sense her aura, and the scars her dalliance with that foulness has left upon it, as they have been left upon yours." The demon hesitated again, its eyes spinning faster now. "Nor were either of you innocent before last night. She is a malign locus, and you burn with an unnatural desire for her body; both crimes for which death is insufficient punishment."

Xander smiled. "Really? Can I-"

Willow quickly elbowed him in the ribs.

"It's a demon, Xander." Cordelia said patiently. "They lie."

"And if three were already accursed, what of the fourth?" the demon said quietly, focusing three eyes on Xander. 

Willow casually nudged her pen, knocking it onto Buffy's desk.

"You bear the Herald's mark more lightly." the demon said, looking at Xander. "Did you dream of laughter?"

"Yes." Xander said slowly, apparently surprised by the question.

"Truly evil laughter?" the demon said hopefully. "Laughter more dread than a banshee's wail? The laughter of which the murmurings of the Cocytus are but the faintest echo? Tell me you heard the laughter that negates all hope, the laughter that sets the works of the very gods at naught. Tell me you heard the sniggering of the Last."

Xander looked blankly at the demon. "Could you say that again, in English?"

"Was it really bad evil laughter, like Buffy heard in her dream that time?" Cordelia clarified, before the demon could start repeating itself.

"You're worried," Willow said, looking at the demon. "Why? You've said Omega is your enemy too. Why would you want to hear its laughter? What could be worse?"

"Suprisingly smart, for a human." the demon said, its eyes still focused on Xander. "If your soul were clean you would make a superb pet. Now tell me, boy, what was the nature of the laughter you heard."

Xander hesitated, then shrugged. "It was laughing at the bad stuff."

The demon swiftly moved backwards, its eyes circling at a dizzying speeds. "Ioculator lasciviat pauperum tabernas regumque turres. Omega edax rerum. Incidis in Scylla cupiens vitare Charybdim."

Cordelia frowned. The demon seemed worried, so the laughter Xander had heard was either good news or a looming disaster. If only she'd understood what the demon had just said she might have a better idea which but she'd never learnt Latin and the few words she had recognised just added to the confusion. What did Omega have to do with lascivious paupers?

Willow finished scribbling something down, then dropped her pen on Buffy's desk, apparently by accident.

"You know what the laughter means?" Xander said, half hopefully.

"It means, little fool, that you should have been eviscerated at birth."

"Forget about Xander." Harmony said. "He's just a loser. Cordelia hasn't consorted with anything evil. Let her go, and she can tell everyone how great you are. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Harmony," Cordelia snapped. "I don't make deals with demons. They're evil, and they always cheat."

Harmony sighed. "I'm just trying to save your life."

"Don't bother," the demon said. "Both of you must perish. Such is the price of consorting-"

"With the herald." Xander echoed. "We know. Can't you say anything else?"

"You have glimpsed the wind that withers the fruit upon the vine, the rock on which all hope founders. Its shadow lies upon your dreams and haunts your every waking moment. Soon, the memories shall devour your mind from within, reshaping you into abomination. These are not matters that can be laughed away, little fool, not even by your kind. Only one power can do that, and its touch would be no safer. Thus it is that I must act, in fulfilment of my ancient oaths as a knight errant of the great lord, to ensure that you are destroyed, body and soul."

It sounded like the demon was talking about the shadow tree, especially since it had earlier mentioned the previous night, but the demon was being a lot more pessimistic than Giles. Cordelia just hoped that was because the demon was underestimating the strength of the human spirit, not because Giles was wrong.

The demon hesitated, then laughed. "And now you will learn how. While you were safely enraptured by my wisdom, thus avoiding the distractions of combat, I have been covertly working magic with a subtlety beyond human comprehension, preparing the ground for your doom. Now, behold, the flowering of the instrument of your demise!"

A dozen tentacles bulged out of the demon, all pointing at the back wall.

Cordelia turned round.

Tiffany and Jason were both leaning against the wall, blank looks in their eyes.

As Cordelia watched they turned to face each other, walked forwards until they were almost touching, both took two steps backwards, then bent at the waist, bending over until their heads banged together in the middle.

"Mind control?" Willow muttered; obviously correct, but there had to be to it than that. Watching modern dance wasn't fatal.

Tiffany and Jason straightened up, then tried again. This time their lips met in the middle, their mouths opening into a deep kiss, but their hands stayed firmly by their sides.

"Little spear," the demon sneered. "Your classmates are about to die. Will you watch, or will you try and stop me, knowing-"

Buffy snatched the pens off her desk then, her hands moving at eye-blurring speed, threw them all at the demon.

The pens whistled through the air, each heading straight for one of the demon's eyes.

The demon zoomed left, moving so fast Cordelia couldn't even see a blur.

"I did warn you," the demon said, almost conversationally. "You are no match for me. I am the master of flesh and blood, and you are my toy. Later, we shall spend many weeks together, exploring the limits of your endurance. Until then, have a migraine."

Buffy gasped, then covered her eyes, wincing as she did so.

"Don't worry," the demon said. "The pain will stop when I've disposed of your friends."

Buffy tried to stand, but stumbled and fell, then curled up on the floor, whimpering in pain.

As Willow and Xander moved to help her, not that there was anything they could do, the demon spoke again. "This is the parlous part. Distract me now and everyone in the building will perish."

Cordelia turned back round.

Still kissing, Tiffany and Jason took one step backward, but their lips didn't move. They just stretched.

Tiffany and Jason were almost two feet apart now but a tube of flesh still linked them, a red ring round its middle, where their lips had melted together.

Their faces rippled then began to flow, the flesh peeling off their bare skulls and oozing down the ever-stretching tube connecting them.

Cordelia looked away, not wanting to be reminded of her dreams.

Harmony shuddered, then looked at Cordelia. "This is what happens when you associate with freaks and losers. Do as I say and you'll soon be normal again."

"What losers has Gwen been associating with?" Cordelia snapped.

This was certainly not a good time to start arguing, but it would blot out the sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking.

"You." Harmony said.

"Be quiet, please." Willow whispered. "The noise is hurting Buffy."

"Of course," Cordelia whispered, then looked at Harmony. "You dare care me a loser? Now I know you've cracked. I was willing to help you, but now I'm beginning to wonder: do you still deserve to be my friend?"

It would be better for Harmony if she wasn't, stopping her from being tempted to follow Cordelia into dangerous places, and it wouldn't harm Cordelia's reputation. Spending time with Aura and the others would be enough to keep her social status intact, and there should be no risk of any of them becoming too curious.

Harmony scowled. "Do I deserve to get locked in a classroom with a demon and a bunch of freaks?"

A minute of whispered arguments later the demon spoke: "It is done."

"It's ugly," Xander whispered, looking at the back wall. "Should I be impressed?"

Cordelia turned to look.

There was nothing recognisable left of Tiffany and Jason now, just an arch of pulsing flesh over gates formed from human bones. There was a demonic face at the apex, eight feet above the floor, its yellow eyes leering down, but the rest of the arch was all slimy guts coiling round pillars of throbbing muscle.

At the base of the arch, Tiffany's earrings lay next to a few scraps of cotton and torn denim; all that remained of their clothes.

Unable to look any longer at the arch, Cordelia focused her gaze on the bone gates.

They moved, just as Cordelia had expected. There wouldn't have been any point to them otherwise.

Red light seeped through the crack between the gates.

The gates swung away from Cordelia, moving into the space behind the walls, the space where the next classroom should have been.

After one glimpse of the hellish landscape beyond the gates Cordelia turned away, not wanting to add to her nightmares.

"Knn-Yrr," the demon said, "a dimension difficult to enter, impossible to leave. There you will die, and there your tainted souls will be trapped." 

Cordelia quickly move to stand by Xander. With Buffy incapacitated they didn't stand much chance in a fight but his help was better than nothing.

Willow frowned thoughtfully. "Another hellmouth, so close to the first one. Is that safe?"

Did it matter? Willow should be thinking about how to stay alive, not about hypothetical threats Giles had once mentioned. Still, if her question distracted the demon for two extra seconds, it might be worth it.

"Presumptuous worm," the demon said. "I studied these matters in the library of the great lord a hundred millennia before you were born. I know full well the dangers, and how to ward against them. Demons of lesser may struggle to construct dimensional gates within the hellmouth's penumbra that can stay open for as little as an hour without catastrophic failure but I have skill enough that gates of my construction can last for as long as a day. This procedure is perfectly safe, without possibility of error." 

Xander smiled at Willow. "How big do you think the explosion will be?" 

"Little fool," the demon said. "No gate of my design would fail in such a plebian manner. Its failure would entail a progressive collapse of all dimensional barriers at contingent causal nexus, the secondary consequents of which would include the apportation herein of aborigines of the fallen dimensions, those of Knn-Yrr not least among them."

"That means bad things will come here." Cordelia told Xander, then looked at the demon. "Wouldn't an explosion be better?"

"An explosion could not protect my world from your tainted souls. Only your banishment to Knn-Yrr can achieve that. And to usher you into that dimension," the demon said, "your classmates will serve."

Cordelia frowned, wondering why the demon didn't simply shove them through the gate itself.

"It is a simple matter-" the demon said.

As one, all the other people in the room, the ones who had never before been involved in anything weird, stood up.

"-to strip humans of that-"

Their faces changed, their mouths bulging forwards as their foreheads sloped back.

"-which they so laughably call a mind,"

Dull yellow eyes looked out of bestial faces.

"-and to make their bodies revert"

Broadening shoulders and newly bulging muscles stretched their clothes tight.

"-to their ancestral shape,"

As their clothes tore, fur spread across their skin.

"-becoming the animals they should have remained,"

Gwen casually reached down, ripped off half her skirt, and began scratching her upper thigh.

"-mere tools, apt to my use."

The once-human creatures all started to walk towards Cordelia and the others, snarling menacingly as they advanced.

Harmony dropped to the floor and began crawling toward the wall.

Cordelia slipped her shoes off, quickly picking up one herself and passing the other to Xander who looked uncertainly at it.

Willow reached over Buffy, stuck her hand in Buffy's backpack, and pulled out a small axe. "Anyone know how to use this?"

Then the creatures were on them.

Cordelia narrowly dodged the first punch, kicked the ex-Amanda in the kneecaps, then slammed the heel of her shoe hard into the next apeboy's side; brutal, she knew, but necessary. With her life in danger she couldn't afford to fight fair.

It did help that she couldn't tell who most of them had been. She'd only recognised Amanda by her earrings. A couple of the other ex-girls also had signs of their former identities left but the rest could have been anyone. They were all apeboys now, bestial figures draped in rags, and that included the girls. Humanity's ancestors must have been really flat-chested, judging by the ex-girls' figures.

An apeboy grabbed Cordelia by the neck and yanked her off the floor.

Buffy groaned in pain, grabbed the apeboy holding Cordelia by the ankle, twisted, sending it sprawling, then groaned again.

Xander steadied Cordelia before she could fall, then punched another apeboy in the stomach.

Still groaning in pain, Buffy slowly sat upright.

Harmony flattened herself against the wall between the window and started flailing at the two apeboys attacking her.

The next apeboy grabbed Cordelia's hair and pulled.

Cordelia screamed, hit it in the face with her shoe, then managed to clip an apeboy attacking Xander on the backswing.

Buffy, her face contorted with pain, grabbed an apeboy by the foot, lifted it above her head, threw it at the demon, then collapsed again.

The apeboy landed two foot short of the demon, but didn't get up.

Another apeboy jumped on a desk and started kicking Willow.

She stumbled, then tripped it up with the axe.

Cordelia stepped sideways, dodging a punch, then scowled. She'd been forced to step toward the back of the classroom, where the gate waited, and not by accident. That was the only direction the apeboys weren't attacking from, the only direction she could retreat in. It was also the way to a living hell.

Harmony was standing only five feet from the back wall now, with a window at her back. 

If this kept up, they'd all be forced through the gate within five minutes, and that was assuming she could manage to stay upright.

Harmony ducked a punch. The apeboy put its arm straight through the glass, then stared blankly at the blood.

But Cordelia was not Buffy. She did not have Buffy's unnatural strength and resilience, nor did she have even the smallest fraction of Buffy's combat skills.

An apeboy sidestepped, dodging Cordelia's kick, and jostled the apeboy attacking Willow, knocking its punch off target.

All Cordelia had to protect herself were her instincts, and those were not enough.

Still groaning, Buffy grabbed another apeboy by the ankle, pulled it down, then knocked it out.

Cordelia had managed to fend off a few blows, and to hurt some of the apeboys, but she knew she couldn't keep it up. The bruises were starting to pile up, and her muscles were growing tired.

Soon she would slip up, and the apeboys would take her down. She would be helpless in their hands, unable to resist when they threw her through the gate.

Breathing heavily, Willow clubbed an apeboy in the shoulder with the flat of the axe.

Buffy was too pain-crippled to help, Xander and Willow had even less experience of combat than Cordelia, and Harmony was hopeless.

One apeboy dodged Xander's punch, but another tripped over Buffy, falling straight into the path of Xander's fist. He knocked the stumbling apeboy backwards, where it clutched at a third apeboy, pulling them both down.

No one was going to rescue Cordelia, so she would have to do it herself, which should certainly impress the others.

Still thinking, Cordelia ducked a punch then stamped on the apeboy's foot.

Again Harmony ducked a punch, tricking the second apeboy into putting its arm through the window.

Stupid of it, but none of them had shown much intelligence. They hadn't even tried to disarm Willow. They were just relying on their brute strength to overwhelm Cordelia and the others.

The demon must have literally stripped their minds away, a big mistake. It clearly couldn't control their bodies directly, or the apeboys would be fighting a lot smarter, but it did have enough control to make them attack; perhaps enough to tell them what to do but not how to do it. That meant Cordelia was effectively fighting a pack of dangerous animals, and animals were easy to trick.

Cordelia feinted left then tripped the apeboy up as it dodged right.

Cordelia smiled, then tricked another apeboy into hitting its neighbour. It was a tactic that wouldn't have worked on a five-year old, but it would be enough to win this fight.

Now all she had to do was work out how to kill a demon.

"Of course!" Willow said as she dodged a punch. "That demon's really only a possessed corpse."

Cordelia remembered Giles saying something similar the previous night, just after they'd left the morgue. The new demons might look and act just like they had in their heyday but they weren't proper demons; they were just demonic ghosts riding shapechanged human corpses, apart from Ytwomj.

Ytwomj had stolen the body of a nascent vampire, a body already part demon, and so returned to true life. The others had taken bodies both fully human and fully dead, achieving only undeath.

Despite its obvious power this blood demon was technically still just a zombie, with the same weaknesses as any other zombie, which must be what Giles had been trying to tell them before the demon had cut him off. The new demons would need to do some weird ritual with bits of its original body to get rid of those weaknesses, and they hadn't had time yet.

A ring of salt should be enough to trap the demon, or maybe a six-pointed star, but only if they could keep the demon still long enough to draw round it. They didn't have anyone invisible to sneak up on the thing this time.

Harmony was wedged into the corner now, and Cordelia was only five feet from the gate but there were only eight apeboys still standing; two attacking Harmony and six-

Buffy grabbed an apeboy by the ankles, pulled it down to the floor, knocked it out then, looking sickly pale, rolled under a desk.

-seven apeboys still standing; five of them attacking Cordelia and Buffy's friends.

Also, normal salt might not be enough, not considering what Giles had said about the effects of a deathgate making undead stronger. They might need to use sea salt, or to bless it first, or something weirder.

Hitting it with the Osirian amulets might work too, if they were as effective against zombies as against ghosts, but again only if they got the demon to stand still, which ruled that out.

Cordelia grimaced at the taste of blood, kneed the apeboy in the groin, than ran her tongue round the inside of her teeth, groaning when two of them wobbled. Nobody would be able to tell, once her dentist had repaired them, but it was still a nuisance. Her parents might ask questions.

Three feet left and Xander tripped an apeboy then Willow, after a nervous glance at the gate, stamped hard on its back.

Good to see Willow putting self-preservation above her scruples; they weren't worth dying for. Perhaps now she'd start using the sharp side of that axe.

"Can either of you remember what you read this morning?" Willow asked. "It might be relevant."

It had been dull. Cordelia had skimmed half of it, using the time to prepare for her talk with Giles, but the gist had been clear.

Nothing could move to a better address with an invitation. It didn't matter whether they were trying to move dimensions, timelines, or just bodies; they needed permission from someone who belonged there. It was all because of some old spell, cast soon after Omega first came ravening from the outer darkness, so the prohibition wasn't absolute. Still, breaking the rule was difficult enough that most demons preferred to trick people into giving them an invitation.

The new demons hadn't. The shadow tree had forced open a deathgate for them, letting them into Cordelia's world without an invitation, or the protections it gave.

Two feet left and Cordelia tripped an apeboy then, as it stumbled past, elbowed it in the back, knocking it into the wall.

The new demons were like gatecrashers at a party. The hosts might not notice them, as long as they didn't do much, but once they were noticed security would eject them.

Similarly, if Cordelia remembered the book correctly, there would now be forces rising against the new demons, forces that would strive to eject them from Cordelia's universe. The new demons had a tough fight ahead, unless they managed to fake or steal an invitation.

The book had been rather vague about what those forces would be like though, just saying they'd make good use of locally available resources. They weren't likely to turn up in time to help Cordelia anyway.

One foot left and Cordelia stumbled backwards when an apeboy punched her in the eye then, when it charged at her, stepped aside. The apeboy tried to turn, skidded, and fell, its head hitting a table with an audible thud.

"Exorcism?" Willow muttered, which would have been a good idea if there had been anyone in the room who knew how to do magic.

Harmony ducked between the two groggy looking apeboys, and limped over to join Cordelia.

Clenching her teeth, Buffy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, pulled down another apeboy, then curled up, groaning in pain.

Half a foot from the gate, but it was four against three now, not counting Buffy.

Why hadn't the demon done anything? Maybe it couldn't touch them without killing them, and getting itself haunted by their ghosts, but if it had just given them all migraines they wouldn't have been able to fight.

Cordelia kicked the apeboy attacking Xander in the small of the back, then Harmony grabbed its left arm and swung the apeboy round, sending it crashing into the back wall.

Xander stumbled, then punched the apeboy attacking Willow in the neck. When the apeboy turned to look Willow kneed it in the groin, then punched it in the stomach.

All four of them hit the last apeboy at once.

Cordelia looked over her shoulder at the gate, just two inches behind her, saw the shapes reaching for her, and quickly jumped forward. Those things clearly couldn't get through, but Cordelia wasn't going to stand any closer than necessary.

Willow dropped the, still unbloodied, axe, looked at Cordelia and stiffened. "Your mouth, it's bleeding."

Cordelia shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I'll live."

"How?" the demon said. "You are only vermin."

"If you wanted stupid minions," Xander said smiling, "you should have made them stronger."

Cordelia nodded. If the apeboys had been vampire-strong they would have lost, but they had only been body-builder-strong, not strong enough to make up for their stupidity. They'd spent half their time getting in each others way. They'd been slow too, slow enough that she could dodge them.

Even so, it had been a close fight, leaving them all battered. Xander's knuckles were bleeding, as was his nose; Willow had a cut over her left eye, probably from a ring, and was rubbing at her right shoulder; Harmony had a limp, bloody knuckles, and a cut on her cheek; Cordelia wasn't sure she wanted to know what she looked like.

"That's why it hasn't touched us." Willow said excitedly, then looked at the demon. "You're scared to."

"I am a knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood." the demon boasted. "I do not fear puny humans."

Willow smiled. "But we've stood in the shadow of a herald - not on purpose, we couldn't have done it on purpose because we had no idea they existed, and if we had known we wouldn't have gone anywhere near it - and that worries you. If you'd used your magic on us or fought us yourself we would have lost. There has to be a reason why you didn't, and I don't think it's because you've got a secret plan. Of course, if I'm wrong, you'll stand still and let me touch you."

Cordelia silently cursed. She should have thought of that. Giles had said much the same often enough, and so had her father. If your enemy's behaviour didn't make any sense they were probably hiding a weakness you didn't know about, either that or they were mad.

Willow rubbed her neck, then put her hand over her mouth, a convincing display of nerves, if you didn't know Willow. Cordelia knew better. Willow had to be planning something.

Cordelia glimpsed a piece of string falling down Willow's back, then Willow stuck out her clenched fist and slowly stepped towards the demon.

The demon started laughing but its eyes were spinning.

Her arm trembling slightly, Willow stepped to within an hairsbreadth of the demon.

The demon zoomed sideways.

Okay, so the demon couldn't directly attack them. That was nice to know, but it didn't get them out of the classroom. 

Cordelia glanced down at Buffy, who appeared to have passed out. She'd done her best, fighting through the migraine, but that wasn't enough.

"This will be easy," Willow said. "I think. It could fit through the gaps but I don't think it can jump high enough. We need to move the desks first."

"What are you babbling about now?" Harmony snapped.

"It is of no consequence." the demon said, pointing a tentacle at the door. "There must be thousands of people living in this cesspit, waiting for me to free them from the burden of mind. Faced with such numbers your doom shall be assured."

After a moment's shock Cordelia raced to the door, knowing she wasn't fast enough. Even if she did manage to block the door they couldn't stop the demon escaping through the windows or going back into the sewers, but that didn't matter. She wasn't going to sit and watch while the demon turned everyone in her town into mindless apeboys. Doing nothing just wouldn't be right.

The door wavered then vanished, not even dust left behind.

On the other side stood Giles, a lit candle in his left hand, a charred stake in his right, and a bag at his feet.

Halfway to the door Cordelia stumbled into Willow, almost knocking them both down. Xander quickly dodged round them, sliding to a halt in front of Giles.

"A volunteer," the demon said. "You may watch his transformation, the first of many, or you can submit to my authority and go meekly to your just fate. It is your choice."

Why was it wasting time talking? It must know they'd suspect a bluff unless it actually changed Giles, so there had to be a reason for the delay, perhaps the same reason as why it hadn't just changed Giles when he tried opening the door earlier.

Giles looked frantically round the classroom then froze, his eyes locked on Buffy. For a long moment he stared at her, his face pale, then he slowly turned away and breathed deeply.

As Cordelia reached the doorway Harmony pulled a shard of glass from the broken window, looked at her wrists, and shuddered.

Giles threw the stake at the demon, only to see the demon disintegrate it in mid-air, then stuck in hand in his jacket.

"Run!" Willow said. "Before it can warp you."

Giles pulled out his Osirian amulet. "I am under the aegis of Osiris Khenti-amentiu. No child of the grave may touch me."

"Osiris is sleeping." the demon said.

Giles nodded. "But his power still flows through the ancient channels."

Willow looked intently at Xander, then sidled round to the far side of the demon.

"Power unguided by intelligence," the demon said. "Circumventing the protections that feeble device offers will poses no real challenge for a knight errant of the great lord, herald of the doom of man, and master of flesh and blood. My inevitable victory will be delayed by less than five minutes."

Not for the first time either. Cordelia had already delayed its plans by a few minutes, fighting off those apeboys, with a little help from the others. No doubt she could do so again, through one stratagem or another, until the minutes stretched into hours. Maybe Giles would think of something, maybe the demon would slip up but either way they needed all the time they could steal.

Holding his hands out of the demon's sight, Xander gestured at Cordelia, pointing first at her then to her left. He couldn't have thought of anything himself, so he must be relaying some idea from Giles or Willow.

Harmony strolled across the classroom, stopping three feet from the demon. "Put the door back now. I don't want to be seen in here with these freaks."

The demon focused four eyes on Harmony. "Your petty wants are of no consequence. I am a ..."

Taking advantage of the demon's distraction, Cordelia quickly circled a third of the way round it, ending up opposite the door.

Xander shuffled a little closer to Cordelia.

Harmony smiled at the demon. "Pathetic much? These losers have outwitted you. Crawl back in to the sewers, where you belong, and leave Cordelia alone."

"A transparent ploy." the demon said. "I will not be goaded into killing you. I know what terrors would follow."

"Terrors?" Giles echoed, sounding curious.

"It's scared of ghosts." Willow explained, prompting another defensive speech from the demon.

"Of course," Giles shouted five seconds later. "I should have thought of that earlier. Many ghosts are natural telempaths and some can project emotionally charged memories."

That fitted with what Giles had said the previous morning, but it couldn't be the whole story since the demon wasn't scared of everyone's ghosts, only of the ghosts of those who had seen the shadow tree.

"The dreams." Willow said, just seconds ahead of Cordelia. "You're scared our ghosts will project those memories. Seeing our ghosts could be almost as bad as having those dreams."

"Insolent brat," the demon said. "Do not pretend innocence. You knew full well the consequences when you chose your path.

While the demon was still speaking, Willow looked at Cordelia and silently mouthed "Amulet, on ten."

After a moment Cordelia realised what Willow must be planning. It should work, since the demon had let them surround it, but it would be risky.

"What consequences?" Xander asked, eight fingers held up behind his back.

"You would be like a banshee." Giles said.

"Far worse." the demon said. "Their unhoused souls would become windows into the outer darkness, wellsprings of despair, and in their shadow would prosper all that is vile."

That might be true, but Cordelia would have to think about that risk later. The demon wouldn't waste its time telling them what it thought they already knew unless it was trying to distract them, as it had earlier. It had to be planning another spell.

"I wouldn't do that." Willow said indignantly while surreptitiously showing Cordelia the amulet concealed in her clenched fist.

"Of course you would. Remember the master plan?" Cordelia said hastily, before Willow could convince the demon it was safe to kill them.

As she spoke Cordelia casually rubbed the back of her neck, undoing the clasp on her amulet.

"Oh, that master plan." Willow said unconvincingly. "Our brilliant plan to, um, use evil against evil."

Harmony scowled, then shuffled diagonally backwards until she was leaning against the chemical supply cupboard.

Xander signalled four.

"The Herald did not serve your plans; you served it. You followed a trail of obscure references in esoteric tomes, but that trail was laid down by other pawns of the Herald and the promise at its end was false. I studied the lore of the outer darkness in the library of the great lord, before my people were driven from this world by the plague that is man. Most of my fellow demons were not born until much later, after men had torched the great libraries, when only fragments of my people's lore survived. They know too little of the Heralds to recognise what horrors your deaths would now entail."

So all the demons wouldn't be too scared of ghosts to kill them, only the well-read ones. Disappointing, but there was still a chance the blood demon was wrong. It had repeatedly underestimated Cordelia; perhaps it was also underestimating its fellow demons.

Xander signalled two.

Cordelia looked carefully at Xander, trying to decide whether he was going to wave his amulet on one or zero. They had to strike together if Willow's plan was going to work.

Xander signalled one.

Cordelia started moving, then froze when Xander and Willow stayed still.

The demon laughed. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice your pathetic attempts at subterfuge?" 

Then the blood demon had underestimated them again.

"They're waking up." Harmony said from behind Cordelia.

Cordelia looked to her right, and winced. One of the apeboys had just stood up.

Holding her amulet between two fingers, Willow closed her eyes, then stuck her arm straight out.

Cordelia dangled her amulet from its chain then swung it at the demon.

When they touched the demon the amulets began to glow.

Its eyes spinning fast, the demon giggled. "That tickles."

Not what Cordelia had wanted to hear, but she didn't believe it. Giggling was a human reflex, and the demon wasn't remotely human. It wouldn't laugh in a human way; it would more likely just twiddle its eyes.

No, the demon had to be faking. Otherwise it would have brushed Giles aside by now. Perhaps, if they pushed the amulets further in ...

Gripping her amulet more firmly, Cordelia took one step forward, then gagged.

This close she could smell the blood, its coppery reek filling her mouth.

Somewhere behind her Cordelia heard glass shattering, probably Harmony throwing a bottle.

Cordelia clamped her right hand over her nose and mouth, hesitated, then thrust her left hand deep into the demon.

The amulet glowed more brighter, but nothing else seemed to happen.

The demon laughed again. "Your protégés are ill-informed, little shieldling. Those devices are much better suited for self-defence. I could withstand this feeble attack for hours, and by then I w-"

The demon stopped mid word, its eyes a blur of motion. "Megali archontas. Anefiktos. Knn-Yrr kurnugia"

Cordelia blinked, wondering whether that was good news or bad.

The demon babbled a few more foreign words, then Cordelia felt a tug on the amulet.

"Uh-" Xander said.

Redness, golden light, and a thunderous roar.

Pulled off her feet, Cordelia slid along the floor until she hit a desk.

"-oh." Xander finished, swaying slightly.

"Aaah!" Cordelia gasped in sudden pain, then looked at her palm, wincing at the sight of the gash. Half a inch deep and bleeding, that was no ordinary rope burn.

Using her other hand Cordelia pulled herself upright and tried to work out what had just happened.

Giles quickly pulled his tie off and gave it to Cordelia, then gave Willow a clean-looking handkerchief.

Cordelia started bandaging up her hand while she looked round the classroom.

The demon was smouldering, two plumes of grey smoke rising from its near side.

The amulet had been wrenched from her hand with force enough to sever fingers, but it looked like the demon had been hurt too.

"Broken." Giles said, gently stroking Willow's fingers. "You'll need a splint."

Cordelia spotted two scorched looking amulets on the floor, halfway to the demon.  
Xander and Giles didn't look injured, and there were only two plumes of smoke.

Giles began examining Cordelia's hand.

Something big had rushed past her on the left, moving so fast she'd been dragged along by its wake.

That must have been the demon, charging the gap between her and Willow.

Two of the amulets had gone off, injuring the demon, but the other two hadn't done anything, probably because the demon had been moving away from their holders.

The demon hadn't left the classroom, though it easily could have; it was standing in front of the gate muttering foreign words.

Something must have happened to the gate, something more important than all the demon's other plans.

"This needs stitches." Giles said, then turned to look at the demon.

"Stitches?" Harmony echoed, looking coldly furious.

One of the plumes of smoke winked out.

"Demon," Harmony said sharply, radiating hauteur. "You will explain yourself, now."

"I know your puny sensorium is incapable of detecting a maledicted causal nexus," the demon said. "But surely even your feeble eyes can sense the malignities now approaching local immanence." 

"You mean something bad's coming?" Cordelia said. "One of your friends?"

Probably not, since the demon refused to admit it was evil, but needling the demon might get it to tell them something useful.

"One of your friends," the demon said as the last of the smoke vanished. "They too consorted with the heralds. This is what became of them. Is it truly the destiny you desire?"

It had to be talking about the things beyond the gate, all the other horrors visible in the room was the demon's own work, but the demon had been adamant that those things couldn't come though its gate. 

Cradling her injured hand, Cordelia edged left until she could see round the demon, see if she needed to run.

At first, she saw nothing.

There was nothing sticking out of the gate, no tentacles squirming into the classroom, no cracks in the floor. 

Cordelia shivered. There was nothing visible, but somehow it looked wrong, deeply, fundamentally wrong.

Remembering the previous night, Cordelia looked at the floor tiles.

They didn't look very square.

"Look sideways, Cordelia." Giles said. "That ... monstrosity is leaking."

Cordelia looked at the wall beside the gate, and glimpsed something flickering to her right.

"What is it?" Willow asked, and Giles began to explain.

Looked at directly, the flicker vanished, but when she looked away again it was still there, a roiling mass of shadow and fire oozing out of the gate.

"You said this was impossible." Cordelia said, glaring at the demon.

"I underestimated the last," the demon said. "And in avoiding Scylla found Charybdis. Now the world must pay for my lapse."

"You may be just a talking monkey, a mockery of my people," the demon said. "But you are still a shieldling, bound by the ancient vows. Perhaps you may be of some small use against the common enemy."

Cordelia turned round, trying to see who the demon was talking to now.

"My vows are to fight your kind," Giles said. "Not to take sides in your squabbles." 

The demon pointed at the blackboard. "Have you sufficient lore to recognise this sigil?"

As it spoke, blood jetted out of the demon, arcing ten feet across the classroom, and painting a geometrical pattern on the blackboard.

Giles hesitated. "I've seen it in the council archives. It was, um, said to be the badge used by a defunct group of rogue watchers."

"A partial truth," the demon said. "It is the sigil of the knights of the great lord."

His eyes widening, Giles looked first at the pattern then at the demon.

"But it incorporates the four signs. You can't use those."

"Cease your denial," the demon said. "Had I no right to this sign I would have been struck down."

Giles nodded. "B-but you'd have had to have sworn the vows."

"A commonality which shall provide the basis for a modicum of mutual trust."

Ridiculous. Giles couldn't have anything in common with a demon; it had to be lying.

Giles stared at the demon. "H-how? Those are watcher vows. You're a demon. You can't be a watcher."

"Presumptuous child," the demon sneered. "Those vows are older than the planet on which we stand. They have been spoken by octopodous savants swimming in methane seas, and by the mirror light birds, who flock in the heart of stars. Your claim is an insult to every one of those legions of heroes."

That might be true, but it wasn't relevant. The demon was just trying to overawe Giles, but Giles knew those tactics too well, as Cordelia's talk with him had proved.

Whatever the demon wanted from Giles, it would be better off asking for it straight out. Its posturing was just wasting time.

"B-but the watchers aren't that old," Giles protested. "And we're all human."

"Names change, and the memory of man was ever short."

"You've killed people," Giles said firmly, looking at Mr Ward's remains. "Innocent people."

"Humans are not true people," the demon said. "Their lives are as worthless as the sands of Araby. They are weak where I am strong -"

"Overcompensating much?" Harmony interrupted, sounding bored, then glanced nervously at the gate. "Are you going to spend all day boasting?"

Cordelia looked back at the gate, then edged further away. She could see shapes in the roiling shadow now, unpleasant shapes, and the floor beneath it looked different, more like raw meat than tiles.

"Silence, worm," the demon snapped. "This is no time for infantile prattle."

"Then take all your claims to superiority as read," Giles said. "Tell me what you want and we can discuss terms."

"Giles!" Xander said, his voice tinged with surprise and disappointment. "You can't want to talk to that thing."  
  
"The enemy of our enemy-" Giles began.

"Is our ally of convenience, no more." Cordelia quickly finished. She didn't want to trust the demon either, but she did trust Giles. If he thought he could get the demons help he was almost certainly right.

"It is really quite simple," the demon said. "If I do not seal this gate to Knn-Yrr within the hour all the gates will fail, and the legions of nightmare march forth, but if I do seal this gate these four will escape, and their tainted souls drown the world in horror before the first snows fall. I can not, in good conscience, let either fate come to pass."

Snow? In Sunnydale? The demon definitely had no idea where it was.

"So," Giles said, "you want me to take care of them for you?"

"You are vermin, but the shield stands behind you, and their age-old wisdom has never been found wanting. Give me a surety and I will trust you thus far."

"Release Buffy," Giles said, "and you can have my word."

"Here, Cordelia." Harmony said sharply, pointing down at the floor. "Now!" 

The demon said something else but Cordelia no longer cared what. Harmony clearly needed reminded just where she stood; everything else could wait.

Cordelia leaned ostentatiously against the wall and yawned. 

"Cordelia." Harmony repeated. "I will not let you kill me. Come here, now."

Cordelia smiled at Xander. "Pitiful, isn't she?"

Xander looked uncertainly at Cordelia, then smiled. "Reminds me of someone I used to know."

"Warped priorities?" Cordelia suggested, idly wondering who Xander was thinking of.

"If she saw a demon, she'd complain its clothes didn't match." Xander said, smiling more broadly.

"Cordelia!" Harmony shouted. "Stop talking to those freaks and come with me."

"She certainly wouldn't be grateful when you saved her life." Cordelia said.

"No," Willow said. "She'd just bicker with her friends while Armageddon crept closer."

After that morning's verbal duel, spotting Willow's double meaning was easy.

"You can't let things like this affect you," Cordelia said, gesturing dismissively at the demon, then winced as her much-bruised shoulders flared with fresh pain. "They happen every week."

Admittedly, nothing this bad had happened before, but the principle still held. Besides, it wasn't as if there was anything she could actually do. Giles and the demon were still talking-

"-teeth out, and carve runes into her skin." the demon suggested.

"No," Giles said firmly. "I do not torture, ever. Nor do I wish to see anyone cower before me."

"But the greatest pleasure lies in the infliction of pain."

-and it sounded like Giles knew how to say no.

"Do you want to die?" Harmony said. "This is our chance to escape."

It was a tempting idea, on the surface, but Cordelia knew better. Running away wouldn't keep her safe; it would only make her look bad. Nor was that the only reason to stay.

"I will not abandon Buffy." Cordelia said, carefully watching Xander's reaction.

"Why not?" Harmony demanded. "She's just a loser freak. I'm your friend."

"She's human." Cordelia said simply. She actually needed more reason than that, trying to save everyone just because they happened to be human would be too hard, but her reply was both literally true and difficult for Harmony to object to without sounding bad. It should also impress Xander and Willow with her saintly nature, a big return on three little words, but she had always been good at verbal manipulation.

Harmony smiled. "So was Owen. You abandoned him." 

"Harmony." Xander snapped, his fists tightly clenched. "You-"

Willow gently nudged him, then asked "How's your back?"

Harmony glared at Willow. "Better looking than yours."

Willow looked down at her hands. "So you didn't get any scars? Some people would get hurt if they were blasted by flying glass."

And Harmony had. Cordelia remembered seeing her back covered in blood, but she'd forgotten about Harmony's injuries in all the excitement.

"There must have been thousands of pieces," Willow continued. "It should have taken hours to pull them all out, and weeks for your back to heal. Instead, here you are, looking as though nothing had happened. It's almost as if you had magic healing powers, but you don't know anything about magic, do you?" 

"Some of us can afford good doctors." Harmony said, her voice trembling most unconvincingly, then pointed at the gate. "Are those maggots?"

"We don't have much time left." Giles said.

Cordelia turned round. If there was another crisis, she needed to know about it.

The shadow was larger now, and its centre more solid, no longer flickering on the edge of vision. Beneath the shadow maggots crawled over a floor of rotting meat while a green mist fell from the ceiling.

Cordelia hurriedly backed away.

The shadow wrapped itself round one of the apeboys, enclosing it in a dark cocoon.

"Perhaps your blood will suffice." the demon said.

Inside the cocoon, the apeboy writhed, its half-glimpsed flesh changing under the shadow's touch.

"Done." Giles said, holding out his hand.

The demon extruded another blood tentacle, and tapped Giles lightly on the palm, making him wince.

"Awaken, little spear!" the demon cried, and Buffy sprang to her feet, her face free from pain.

The shadow-spawned monstrosity burst from its cocoon, an inhuman skeleton wrapped in emerald flames. Coils of rotting flesh snaked over its twisted bones, heedless of the barbed spikes, and its eyes were orbs of ebon shadow.

Cordelia shuddered. The creature wasn't that ugly, not compared with the shapes that had stalked her nightmares, but its every malformed curve and glistening spike radiated wrongness. Such creatures should not walk the waking world.

Worse, it was still wearing Sarah's ring.

Buffy grimaced. "Which one should I kill first?"

Giles pointed at the skeleton. "We have a truce with the other one."

"My blessing is upon you." the demon said. "Guard well your fellow vermin; I go to battle."

The skeleton lunged at Cordelia.

The demon glided towards the gate.

Buffy jumped in front of Cordelia.

Cordelia stepped further back, leaving plenty of room for the fight.

The skeleton grabbed Buffy's left shoulder, then stroked her face, the barbed spikes sprouting from its warped bones ripping her right cheek into bloody shreds.

Cordelia covered her nose, trying to blot out the stench of burning meat.

The skeleton raised its left hand to deliver a second blow.

Buffy's cheek knit itself back together; long rips becoming mere gashes that faded into pale scars then vanished completely.

Half a second later, Buffy kicked the skeleton back, then tentatively patted her right cheek.

"That didn't hurt." Buffy said in a shocked whisper. "What the hell just happened?"

Then the skeleton grappled Buffy, and the two began to fight in earnest, Buffy ignoring the wounds she recieved, wounds which now healed as quickly as the demon could open them.

"The demon." Willow said. "It must be its blessing."

Cordelia silently nodded, wondering how long the gift would last, and what the price might be.

The demon stepped into the gate, into the space between reality and Knn-Yrr.

"Hear me, O lords of the pit," the demon cried. "Hear me and tremble, slaves of the heralds, for a knight of the great lord has come against you."

The shadows recoiled from it, then surged back.

"I fear not your fury for I am armoured in righteousness; against me you shall contend in vain."

More like self-righteousness, but Cordelia wasn't going to correct the demon, not while it was fighting the other demons. It might decide she was right.

Giles picked up a piece of chalk, then walked over to the doorway.

One of the maggot-ridden coils slithered off the skeleton, wrapped itself round Buffy's neck, and squeezed.

The demon switched languages, first to Latin, then to Greek.

With a nauseated grimace Buffy staggered back, dug her fingers deep into the rotting flesh, and ripped the coil in half, flinging the pieces into the far corner, then brushed the maggots off her shoulders.

Giles drew a five pointed star over the lintel, one point upwards, then added letters in an unfamiliar script.

The shadows wrapped themselves round a second apeboy.

"How do I kill it?" Buffy asked, then the skeleton was on her again, its claws raking her stomach.

The demon began to glow, a faint red beacon amid the growing shadows.

"You don't need to." Giles said. "It will perish with the gate."

The demon faltered in its chanting as veins of shadow marbled its surface.

"Try decapitation." Cordelia suggested. It wouldn't work, or Giles would have suggested it himself, but it couldn't hurt, and it made her look helpful.

"Won't work." Giles said quietly. "That creature is animated by the unnatural forces coming from Knn-Yrr."

The skeleton tripped Buffy with a low kick, then put its other foot on her neck, the barbs shredding her throat.

A second skeleton rose from its dark cocoon.

"Segenarith." the demon said, and the gate quivered. 

"Get down," Giles said. "And cover your eyes."

"Segenarith." the demon repeated, its voice louder, and the floor shook.

Cordelia crouched down, putting both hands over her eyes.

"Segenarith!" the demon shouted, and the room blazed with crimson light.

Even through closed eyes Cordelia could see that light, seeping through her fingers.

As the light faded an apeboy wailed.

Cordelia opened her eyes.

Two of the apeboys were awake now; both sitting on the floor, rubbing their eyes and crying, apparently blinded by the blast.

They needed help, but there was nothing Cordelia could do.

She looked away, toward the back of the classroom.

The gate had gone, but not without trace.

A great many-pointed star stretched from floor to ceiling, gradually shading from coral pink at its outermost points through cherry red into a dark maroon. It looked almost like a giant flower, surprisingly attractive for the work of demons, but in its heart unnatural shadows still writhed.

"What happened?" Willow asked. "Is it over?"

"For now." Giles said. "The blood demon sealed the gate to Knn-Yrr with its own body. The gate can not open again while the wall stands."

"But why?" Willow asked. "Why would demons fight?"

Buffy kicked idly at the crumbled remains of the skeleton. "Because they're demons?"

"There is worse than demons." Giles said. "You saw one such last night. The creatures of Knn-Yrr are not so terrible as that was but they too are the enemies of man and demon alike."

Harmony scowled. "Cordelia, why are you wasting time with these freaks? You need to go to hospital, before you get a scar."

"Still here?" Xander said, feigning surprise. "Anyone would think you wanted to hang out with us freaks."

"They'd have to be mad to think that, which would explain your clothes." Harmony said, glaring at Xander, then turned and stalked out of the classroom.

Willow rubbed her injured hand. "How long will Buffy heal like that? Forever?"

Giles hesitated. "Until the moon draws her blood, according to the demon."

Willow blushed, then looked at Xander. "Don't ask."

Cordelia nodded. That was something Xander didn't need to know about. "The rest of us aren't so lucky."

She looked at Giles. "Can you drive us to the hospital?"

Giles nodded. "We can talk on the way. I need to know what else that demon said."

Couldn't it wait? Cordelia looked at the others, gauging their mood, then said what they all appeared to be thinking.

"It's been a long day, and we still haven't recovered from last night. We need a break, before we collapse."

Willow glanced at Xander, then nodded.

"We do need to talk about meditation techniques before you sleep." Giles said.

"Ok," Cordelia conceded. "But nothing else."

Giles nodded. "We'll need to clean up this room too, decide what to do about your ex-classmates, but not right now."

As the five of them strolled out of the classroom together, casually discussing future plans, Cordelia glanced backwards wondering, once again, just why her luck was so much worse this time round.


	11. Cordelia's Ghost: New faces

"You sure you don't want us to wait?" Willow asked.

Cordelia nodded. "Go home, let your parents pamper you. You've been through enough already without spending hours listening to the whine of the dentist's drill."

And, with them gone, she'd be able to look for the old books she needed to keep Giles fooled.

Willow and Xander looked at each, then Xander gently said. "And we don't want to watch you suffering."

"Think of it as an opportunity to practice your meditation." Giles added.

Buffy smiled brightly. "Remember, the Bronze, eight o'clock. We're going to have fun, not like last night."

Buffy scowled, as if at some unpleasant memory, then Xander nudged her.

Cordelia watched as the other four got into Giles's car, half-listening to their subdued banter, then turned round and stepped into the dentist's, trying not to shudder.

There were so many things he could do to her, once he got her in the chair, so many things he had done, in the background of her nightmares. Quite apart from the normal tortures, he had plenty of sharp instruments and a drill that could pierce bone as easily as enamel. 

Cordelia paused on the doorstep, struggling to force the memories down. Her dentist had never done anything like that the first time round, at least not to her, so she had nothing to fear. 

Besides, if she started avoiding the dentist she'd end up with ugly teeth.

After a few brief words with the receptionist Cordelia sat down in the waiting room and tried hard not to think about what might happen next.

Meditating was beginning to seem like a good idea.  


  


  
Two hours later Cordelia looked around to check no one was watching, then slipped into the fifth second-hand bookshop of the afternoon.

None of the others had been much use, they only stocked trashy paperbacks and discounted textbooks, but the proprietor in the last shop had dismissively suggested this might be a good place to visit, just before he suggested they discuss her literary tastes in the local wine bar.

Cordelia frowned indignantly at the memory. The man had looked almost sixty, far too old for her, and his beard had been full of crumbs. Did she really look that desperate?

"Can I help you, madam?" the proprietor asked.

Cordelia quickly glanced at him, then nodded.

This one didn't look too bad. He was middle-aged, a slim man with neatly combed hair and an immaculate tweed jacket. In fact, he looked a lot like Giles, but he couldn't be a watcher. They were all English; this man had a definite French accent.

"I'm looking for, um, esoteric materials." Cordelia said, carefully watching his reaction.

He didn't smirk or start laughing; he just looked slightly puzzled. "Relating to folklore and mythology?"

"And demonology." Cordelia said. "But not fairytales."

Reading 'Hansel and Gretel' would not help create the right impression with Giles.

"A strangely popular subject," the man said, heading for the shelves. "Those books are over here."

"New in town?" Cordelia asked as she followed him.

"I opened last month," the man said, then pointed at the shelves on the left. "Do let me know if you require any further assistance."

Cordelia nodded absent-mindedly, her attention focused on the books. They certainly looked like the kind Giles had, handmade and leatherbound, and some of the titles seemed vaguely familiar.

She picked up the first one, 'Bristow's demon index', and flicked through the pages, comparing the pictures with the things she'd seen.  


  


  
Ten minutes later she had a large pile of books, all of which looked like ones a watcher might read.

"Hey!" Cordelia shouted. "Help me with these."

She picked the four smallest up herself, leaving the other twelve for the proprietor to carry.

He looked at the pile, then said "One moment, madam," and hurried away.

It wasn't long before he returned, pushing a shopping trolley.

"May I presume you have your own transport?" the man asked. 

"I can call a taxi." Cordelia replied, wondering how she would unload them when she got home. Doubtless the taxi would be willing to wait, but the longer it took the more chance someone would notice her uncharacteristic behaviour.

She really should have thought about that before, and about where she would put them. Her friends sometimes came in her room, so the books couldn't go in there without raising awkward questions, and anyway she didn't have any bookcases. Piling them on the floor would look messy and keeping them on her dad's shelves would risk more awkward questions.

Whatever solution she thought of, it would need to fit with her story.

"How will you be paying?" the man asked.

Cordelia handed over her platinum credit card.

She was planning to tell Giles the books had been left behind by Winston. If that had really happened, what would she have done?

No watcher would have left the books with her without making sure she had somewhere suitable to put them so she would only have them if she'd collected them herself from Winston's place, which wouldn't have been any easier than getting them from this shop. It would have been easier to leave the books in his rooms, where there was no chance anyone would see her looking at them.

"I do have more books on this subject," the man said. "I haven't unpacked them yet, but the auction catalogue has the complete list."

"Auction?" Cordelia said politely, waiting for the man to finish wrapping her books.

"The disposal of the Lindcroft estate," the man said, as he ducked behind the counter. "Apparently, he was a well-known local collector of such works."

"What happened to him?" Cordelia asked, not wanting to buy trouble.

Lindcroft's books might be useful, but if it sounded like he'd been killed by some demon trying to steal the books, she'd let Giles have them. He'd be able to use them too, and he'd know what to do about any problems they bought.

"Lots thirty-seven through fifty-one." the man said, passing Cordelia the catalogue. "Suicide, three weeks ago. He told his maid he couldn't face the new future, whatever that means."

Cordelia had a good idea. She made her wish three weeks ago, changing the future. Buffy had suffered horrible dreams the next night, and she hadn't been the only one, according to Giles. Lindcroft must have been one of the others.

Unfortunate, but at least that meant his books were safe.

Strange that the proprietor had been so open about the suicide though. That was the kind of detail that normally put people off their shopping. Could he have some ulterior motive?

Cordelia hesitated then dismissed the idea. If he didn't want to sell the Lindcroft collection he wouldn't have mentioned it, and it was his first month in business. The man just wasn't very good at selling things.

Satisfied with her reasoning, Cordelia glanced down at the catalogue, then smiled. The collection included a complete set of Dramius, an occult encylopedia which the book she'd been reading that morning had repeatedly cited as an authoritative guide.

These books would definitely be useful, and much safer in Cordelia's hands than in the bookshop, where any would-be dark sorcerer could buy them. There were considerably more books in the collection than she'd planned on buying but the sheer number would also help support her story, and she was sure she'd find some way of dealing with the storage problem.

"I'll buy them all, if they are in good condition." she said quickly.

She didn't want to sound too eager or the man might put the price up.

The man looked faintly disbelieving. "You are aware that many of these books are in archaic languages?"

Cordelia patted her school bag. "I've bought some textbooks."

She didn't have the time to waste on mastering dead languages but knowing a few sentences would help make her story more believable. Basic Latin couldn't be that hard to learn; it was only old-fashioned Spanish. Greek would be harder, since they didn't use the proper alphabet, but she could manage a few words, enough for her purposes.

"May I see?" the man said, pointing at her bag. "I may be able to make further recommendations."

Shrugging, Cordelia pulled them out. Having lots of language books wouldn't hurt her story, and her dad would be paying the bill.

The man frowned. "The Latin primer is adequate, but that book is on modern Greek. The language has changed somewhat over the last three thousand years."

He paused. "You will need comprehensive dictionaries of both languages, and a guide to Classic Greek. I can provide this."

"Ok," Cordelia said. "But I want to see the Lindcroft collection first."

Examining her purchases was always more pleasurable than hanging around shop counters, even if they were only books.

"Very well, madam," the man said. "This way."

Cordelia followed him into a back room, where he pointed at a stack of crates.

"All those?" Cordelia said, looking uneasily at the size of the stack.

There was a dozen big crates there, each over three foot across. She'd never be able to fit them all in a taxi. They might not even fit in her bedroom.

"There were another two crates, which I had started unpacking."

Cordelia groaned inwardly. "I'll have to hire a van," which would be hard to do anonymously. " Can I pay a deposit now, and collect them later?"

"Of course, madam," the man said. "It will be a pleasure to be of service."

Cordelia smiled, then began discussing terms.  


  


  
Forty minutes later, Cordelia leaned against her gatepost and smiled. Now she was home, she could finally relax.

She'd spent half the last twenty hours facing nightmares and demons, and the other half engaged in tedious research and brain-straining conversations.

None of that could bother her here. She could just go straight to her room, put on a CD, and lay back, untroubled by the cares of the world.

Smiling broadly, Cordelia began walking up the drive.

Halfway to the house, her mom looked up.

"You're early," she said, inaccurately. "Get bored?"

Annoyed by the interruption, Cordelia stopped and looked down at her mom.

Despite the overcast sky, she was slumped across a sunbed, wearing only a bikini and G-string combination more suitable for someone half her age.

Her mom had never let unpleasant facts bother her.

"There was an accident in the science lab." Cordelia replied. "They sent us home."

Her mom smiled. "Lucky you."

"I was hurt." Cordelia said sharply, holding out her injured hand.

Her mom glanced at Cordelia's hand, then quickly looked away, grimacing. "That's hideous. You'll have to hide it. Wear a glove, or something."

"It wouldn't fit over the bandage." And it would look conspicuous. A little makeup, carefully applied, would do the same job far more discretely.

Cordelia's mom shrugged, dismissing the issue. "Your father wants to speak to you."

"What about?"

Her mom smiled. "Who cares? It's bound to be something nice."  


  


  
Cordelia knocked on her dad's office door, then waited.

It was inconvenient, having her dad do so much work at home. When she needed something from him, she couldn't just find him and ask, she had to check she wasn't interrupting anything important first.

His clients didn't like it either; meeting him in his own house put them off-balance. He lost out on a lot of business that way, but Cordelia's mom was more important. If she had another of her episodes and the maid couldn't fetch her husband in time she might have to go to the clinic again, not a place Cordelia wanted to see her mom.

It wouldn't do Cordelia's reputation much good either.

Cordelia knocked again, louder.

Her dad shouted "Come in."

Cordelia pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Dad -"

He shushed her, and pointed at the TV.

Cordelia sighed as she turned to look. Her dad knew she thought the business news was a complete bore. If that was what he'd dragged her in here for 

The TV wasn't tuned to the business news.

A tank was rolling through the streets of a burning city, its turret slowly turning from side to side.

For a moment Cordelia glimpsed a pile of severed heads, then the camera abruptly jerked up, taking the sidewalk out of shot.

Cordelia quickly looked down at the station logo; CNN, so this was really happening.

" more on the crisis in the Middle East soon, but first news of the other terrorist incidents."

Her dad turned the sound off.

"Isn't there always a crisis in the Middle East?" Cordelia asked, hoping this was just a coincidence. Giles had said last night had caused problems over there, and Willow had mentioned something about riots, but neither of them had suggested anything on this scale.

"Some idiots defaced the wailing wall," her dad said, "then released hallucinogenic gases. The first rioters levelled the dome of the rock, then the situation escalated. Now they are talking war."

Cordelia hastily sat down.

It was the shadow tree that had defaced the wall, according to the watchers, which made all this its fault but Cordelia was almost certain it had only been able to act because of some unwanted side-effect of her wish, which meant this mess was also partly her fault.

Not by much, not when she'd been tricked into making the wish, without full knowledge of the consequences, but it still wasn't a comfortable thought.

"There's going to-" her dad said, as he turned to face her. "What happened!"

"There was an accident," Cordelia said casually. "In the science lab."

"Another one? It's only three days since they took your cast off."

"Don't you remember what it was like when you were in school." Cordelia said, rather than risk attempting an explanation. The less she said, the less chance her father would catch her in a lie.

Her dad's face twitched with hastily concealed emotion, then he smiled. "I remember Jamie Nicoll. Some days, he couldn't cross the classroom without tripping himself up and breaking both legs."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. Happened four times in tenth grade, then his family emigrated."

Cordelia's dad paused, then looked thoughtfully at her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." She still hurt a little, but not half as much as when she'd been impaled by that metal bar.

"Anything I can do?"

"No." Not unless she told him the whole truth, and then he'd probably ground her until she was thirty.

"If you're sure," her dad said, sounding uncertain.

"I'm sure."

Her dad frowned, then turned back to face the TV.

"Mom said you wanted to talk to me." Cordelia said quickly, before he could forget she was there.

"Oh, yes," her dad said. "What have I told you about my phone number?"

"It's only for emergencies."

"So why did you give it to your friend. You've got your own number. Use it."

"I haven't told anyone." Cordelia said. "Who was it?"

"I've got the message here somewhere," her dad said, riffling through the papers on his desk.

Cordelia stood up and looked over her dad's shoulder. 

"What's this?" she asked, putting her hand on the map. It looked like a map of the neighbourhood, but her dad had circled five of the local houses, including Cordelia's, then drawn lines joining them all up, lines which formed a pentagram inside a pentagon.

That was not a shape Cordelia wanted to see near her house.

"Strange, that." Her father said. "I got an offer for the house this morning from Parandol Properties. Five million dollars, and the opportunity to rent the house back for just one hundred a month."

"Sounds like a fraud." Cordelia said. Either that, or the would-be purchasers weren't interested in money.

In Sunnydale, when people did peculiar things, the hellmouth had to be the first suspect.

Her dad smiled. "I started asking questions. Parandol were only formed three weeks ago. The directors are proxies for a consortium of private companies whose beneficial owners are completely untraceable. They've made the exact same offer for these other houses, but the properties aren't contiguous; they have nothing in common not shared with the other fifteen houses on the block."

Cordelia listened carefully, memorising the details. Giles would know if they were significant.

He rubbed his forehead. "I can't see what's in it for them, and if I can't do that I'll never be able to make them give me a cut."

"They might not be after money." Cordelia said, tapping the map. "Isn't this shape one of those superstitious things?"

Her dad laughed. "Then they'd be fools with money, an unnatural state of affairs easily corrected."

He pushed the map to one side, uncovering a small notepad.

"We need to talk about last night. Phone me between six and seven. Angel." her dad read, pulling the sheet out of the notepad. "The number's at the bottom."

Cordelia sighed. That would not be a fun conversation, and it might make her late for the Bronze.

"Who is he?" her dad asked, "Your latest boyfriend?"

"Hardly." Cordelia scoffed. "He's this boy Buffy knows."

"So why is he phoning you, on my private line?"

"He probably wants help with Buffy." Cordelia said. It better not be Angel's first priority right now, but he definitely needed help if he wanted Buffy.

"What do you get out of it?" her dad asked, looking concerned.

He always asked questions like that, every time she mentioned a new boy. It was sweet of him, she supposed, wanting to protect her from conmen and Casanovas, but it was also annoying, going through the same old questions time after time.

Didn't he trust her judgement?

At least he'd stopped hiring detectives to follow them round, after the unfortunate incident last summer with Ben and the pineapples. Quite what would have happened if he'd tried that with Angel, Cordelia didn't want to guess.

Cordelia sat back down and began answering her dad's questions, carefully slanting her replies to imply that Angel was a perfectly safe normal boy who should never be allowed in the house.  


  


  
An hour later, Cordelia was sitting in a cafe, sipping surprisingly good coffee and wishing Angel would hurry up.

It was a seedy little place; faded posters peeling off the walls, a slimy patina of grease on the formica tables, clouds of cigarette smoke drifting out of the kitchen, but it did have one advantage.

No one she knew would come in here.

Even if they walked past, they wouldn't see her, not through the grime-smeared windows, and none of her friends were likely to come down this alley anyway. Certainly Cordelia wouldn't have, if she hadn't been looking for a good bookshop.

"Cordelia." Angel said, slipping into the seat opposite her. "What happened? Is Buffy all right?"

"She's fine." Cordelia said sharply, "She's got magic healing powers, unlike me."

Buffy was not half covered in bruises, with scars on her face and hands that would never fade, nor had she seen the horrors festering beneath the branches of the shadow tree. Even through the make-up, Angel must be able to see how badly she had been hurt and yet he'd had the effrontery to ignore her injuries.

She would need to teach Angel how to show proper respect.

Angel looked carefully at her. "What happened to you? You look terrible, and those bruises They're fresh, not from last night."

"I had to fight a demon."

"You shouldn't be fighting. Leave that to Buffy."

Cordelia scowled. "The demon gave her an headache, left her curled up on the floor."

"Then you should have run."

"And leave Buffy behind?" 

She couldn't have run anyway, the demon had sealed the door by then, but Angel wouldn't want to be bothered by those little details. 

Angel grimaced, then looked down at the table, clearly unable to think of a reply. Instead he trailed one finger through the grease, then asked "You know how long this cafe's been open?"

It looked like it had been open for decades, without ever being cleaned, so that couldn't be the right answer.

"It doesn't look new." Cordelia said, carefully stressing the 'look'.

"Two weeks," Angel said. "Before that, this was a cleaning agency."

Then the dirt had to be deliberate. No one could get a place this filthy this fast.

Hopefully, they were just using the cafe as part of some big fraud, but Cordelia would have to assume the worst.

"Did you know that?" Angel asked.

"Why do you think I chose it?" Cordelia answered quickly, ostentatiously not looking over her shoulder at the counter.

She could get Giles to find out what the cafe owner's were up to later; right now the details didn't matter. As long as nothing she said made her look bad it wouldn't matter if anyone was listening, and if things got violent Angel would protect her.

Angel looked up from the table. "Places like this get two types of customer, the desperately poor and friends of the staff."

"Three types," Cordelia said, before Angel could get the wrong idea. "Other cafes will want to see if this place might be competition."

"But they don't come back." Angel said. "Will you?"

She certainly hoped not. Even if she could stand the filth there'd be too much risk of getting caught up in the cafe owner's secret plans, and she already had more than enough intrigue in her life. 

"I shall do what is required of me." Cordelia said, her words carefully chosen to make Angel, and any eavesdroppers, think she had major obligations, an impression her feigned slip into Giles-speak would bolster.

"What did happen last night?" Angel asked. "Was Buffy-"

Cordelia glared at him.

Angel half-smiled, as if at some private joke. "Were any of you hurt?"

"Owen was killed. The rest of us escaped unhurt." Well, not physically hurt. The nightmares were worse than any physical injury could have been, but talking about them wouldn't help anything.

"How's Buffy taking it?"

"Don't get any ideas." Cordelia said firmly. "Buffy doesn't need you to comfort her. She's got me."

"Why aren't you with her now?" Angel asked, playing straight into Cordelia's hands. He never had been able to think straight where Buffy was involved.

"Because you wanted to talk to me," Cordelia said flatly.

Angel winced.

Before he could recover his composure Cordelia moved to take control of the conversation.

"I think you wanted to know what happened."

Angel nodded.

Cordelia shrugged. "Some big evil ripped open a death gate. Giles bottled up the soul storm, but some of the demon ghosts had already escaped. Now this town has two permanent interdimensional portals, and a lot of new demons. One of them tried to kill us this afternoon. It failed."

Looking startled, Angel leaned forwards. "Demon ghosts? That's impossible."

"I saw them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Cordelia said firmly. "What else do you need to know?"

"Everything. I -"

"We don't have time for that."

"Thi-" Angel began, then Cordelia interrupted.

"I'm meeting Buffy at eight." 

Cordelia paused and looked thoughtfully at Angel. "Tell me what you saw and I'll explain the important bits."

She knew he wouldn't have seen much, he'd spent most of last night in the sewers, at a safe distance from the action, but asking the questions would help set the proper tone for their relationship. 

"The Master is stronger."

"Because of the necrotic aura of the death gate. It will make all the undead stronger," or so Giles had said, not that it mattered much. The Master was no longer the biggest evil in town.

Cordelia smiled sweetly. "How about you? Feeling any stronger? More powerful?"

Angel looked thoughtful, then picked up the salt cellar and squeezed.

Cordelia watched carefully, jumping slightly when the glass cracked.

Angel put the salt cellar down and stared at the cracks. "You're right."

"Of course."

"The Master is stronger in other ways too. He shrugged off the demon's hellfires and battled it mind to mind."

"Makes sense," Cordelia bluffed. "He must be a magnet for the necrotic energies. What demon?"

"He called himself Dumuzi Abzu."

"What did he look like? What did he do?"

"I thought you were in a hurry." Angel said.

"Buffy needs to know about this now. You can wait."

"I need-" Angel began.

"I'll give you the full explanation later," Cordelia said. "Or do you want to keep Buffy waiting?"

"No," Angel said vehemently.

Cordelia smiled encouragingly.

Angel looked at her. "When I saw all those demons I thought the Master must be responsible, so I went to spy on him. He was ranting. He said the walls of Nastrond were burning, and the gates of Abbadon stood open. Then Dumuzi came."

Angel paused, a faint smile on his lips.

"Describe him." Cordelia said.

"He looked-" Angel paused again, clearly struggling for words.

Cordelia gently tapped him on the arm.

"He looked," Angel said, "like a young god; golden hair, bronzed skin, rippling muscles. And his voice! Deep syrupy tones, a joy to hear. He wasn't just a pretty face either. He moved like a tiger, feline grace allied with immense power, and he radiated authority. Just looking at him, you felt here was a leader you would gladly follow into hell itself."

Surprised, Cordelia stared at Angel. She'd never heard him talk that way before, not even about Buffy. Dumuzi must have been using magic.

"What was he?" she asked. "Some kind of super-incubus?"

Probably not, but showing off her knowledge would help to give everyone listening a good impression.

"Could be," Angel said. "I've seen incubi have the same effect, on men as well as women, but vampires are supposed to be immune to such glamours."

Tell that to Drusilla. Xander's love spell had certainly worked on her. If vampires thought they were immune they were just deluding themselves, a popular hobby.

"Vampires may be more resistant," Cordelia conceded. 

Angel grimaced. "Not to Dumuzi. They all knelt before him, except for the Master."

"And you." Cordelia said confidently.

"I had Buffy," Angel said, his voice strained. "I clung to the memories of her beauty, and told myself that she was the real thing. Her beauty doesn't come from dark magics; it is the outward reflection of her kind and gentle heart."

Cordelia clenched her teeth, struggling not to laugh. Buffy's supposed beauty came from a bottle, no match for Cordelia's own natural good looks, nor would she have ever lifted a finger to help anyone if she hadn't had the misfortune to be chosen.

She didn't think Angel would want to hear that though.

"I struggled to think only of her," Angel said quietly, "and to ignore the demon's siren call."

Cordelia glanced at Angel's gloom-laden face and shuddered. Best not to ask if he'd succeeded, or at what mental cost. Some things were best forgotten.

Instead she forced a smile. "What did the Master do? I bet he wasn't pleased."

"He spoke in our heads. He ordered us to obey only him, and to kill Dumuzi."

"Telepathy," Cordelia said. "That's new."

Angel nodded. "There are rumours of rituals which can give old vampires many powers over those of their blood, but the Master does not know them."

"Or he'd have done them years ago." Cordelia said.

"And yet, somehow he has gained those powers."

"The death gate," Cordelia said. "What happened next?"

"Dumuzi and the Master struggled for control of our minds. It was a disturbing experience."

"Who won?" Cordelia asked, making a mental note to find ways of protecting herself if anyone tried to take over her mind. Perhaps her new books might say something useful.

"No one," Angel said. "When the mental battle deadlocked Dumuzi set the air on fire."

"Air doesn't burn."

Angel shrugged. "That's what it looked like. The entire cavern was filled with flames."

"How did you survive?"

"I wasn't in the cavern. I saw all this through a half-inch crack in the tunnel wall."

"Because you were spying." Cordelia said, kicking herself. She should have realised Angel would have been well hidden.

Angel nodded. "Only the Master survived the flames, but the other vampires took longer to die than they should have." 

"The death gate," Cordelia repeated. "You'll be less vulnerable to fire too."  
  
"I'm not going to test that," Angel said, sounding almost amused, then went back to his story.

"When the screaming stopped Dumuzi let the flames go out, and the Master charged. I've never seen anyone move that fast. He was like a whirlwind, with fangs and claws. I'd have been dust in two seconds flat, but Dumuzi met him blow for blow."

Cordelia leaned forwards, impatient to hear who had won.  


  


  
Fifty minutes later Cordelia walked through the light drizzle, still thinking about what Angel had said.

When a second demon had turned up in the Master's lair, apparently looking for control of the hellmouth, the Master had hidden himself at the bottom of his pool, leaving the two demons to fight.

Before they'd got very far, two more demons had rolled into the lair, already fighting. Dumuzi immediately ran away, but the other three fought to the death.

Just as the half-crippled winner was starting its triumphal rant, the Master had crept out of his pool and stabbed it in the back, then cut its head off.

Angel had left the lair after that, deciding he couldn't learn anything there, or so he claimed. Cordelia suspected he'd just been looking for somewhere less dangerous to lurk.

She detoured round a large puddle, then scowled.

It had been good to hear how eager the demons were to kill each other, and save Buffy the work, but the numbers were worrying. If four major league demons had visited the Master in under half an hour there must be hundreds more roaming the sewers.

The way her luck had been running lately, half of them were probably going to try and kill her.

Still, she couldn't do much about that. She needed to concentrate on the problems she could actually solve, such as where to meet Angel next.

She couldn't go anywhere decent, since she'd be recognised, and she never wanted to go back to that cafe again, or anywhere else like it.

The moment she'd got home from there, she'd jumped straight in the shower. It had been fifteen minutes before she'd felt clean, which had left her barely enough time to get ready for the Bronze.

Unfortunately, ruling out anywhere that was either popular or unclean left her with a choice between sex clubs and demon bars; two equally unattractive choices.

She couldn't meet him anywhere private either. If they met in his apartment, he'd get too big a psychological advantage, and she'd never invite him into her house.

Cordelia stopped walking, suddenly struck by a brilliant idea.

Just as she needed somewhere private to meet Angel, so she would have needed somewhere equally private to meet Winston, had he been real. He wouldn't have wanted to invite a teenage girl into his apartment, in case the neighbours talked, and everywhere else would have been just as unsuitable then as it was now.

Rather than think up two different secret meeting places, why not say they were the same place?

At first glance, that didn't make the problem any simpler, but it did give her a new angle to look at it from.

What would Winston, a wealthy rogue watcher, have done?

He'd have used his money and influence, bought somewhere neutral, and met her there.

She'd never thought about property investments before, she'd always assumed that could wait until after she'd left home, so she wasn't entirely sure what she'd need to do, but her card did have a $3,000 dollar limit. That should be enough to rent somewhere nice, and persuade people to back up her story.

It'd also give her somewhere to keep her new books.

Smiling broadly, Cordelia crossed the road then turned left; another fifty yards and she'd be out of this rain.   
There might be a few technical problems with her idea, but none her dad's money couldn't solve, and the advantages were obvious.

Angel wasn't the only person she might want to meet in secret.

Still congratulating herself, Cordelia strolled inside the Bronze and looked round.

Harmony wasn't there yet, which solved one problem, but neither was Buffy.

"Cordy! Over here!" Xander shouted, standing up and waving vigorously. Clearly, he'd never heard of discretion.

Cordelia checked her watch then sighed. She didn't mind spending time with Xander. He could be good company, when he wasn't betraying her. Willow wasn't. She babbled incessantly about the most boring things, and she stole boyfriends.

Still, Buffy should be arriving soon, and it would look a lot better if all her friends were sat together. Cordelia could tolerate Willow's inane prattle for ten minutes, and Xander did make it more bearable.

Half way to their table, Cordelia started smiling.

She could see now why Xander had been so eager. Willow was leaning forwards, explaining something with her customary overenthusiasm. At first glance, Xander looked like he was listening intently, but Cordelia wasn't so easily fooled. To her expert eye, he was clearly struggling not to yawn.

"Most of them just went catatonic," Willow was saying as Cordelia reached their table. "But some of them decided to enact the dark visions."

Cordelia sat down, next to Xander. "Let's talk about something more cheerful."  


  


  
"I told her it had just been a joke." Xander said, smiling at the memory.

Willow giggled. "She offered him another hundred dollars."

Buffy started laughing.

"I tried to explain," Cordelia said, "but Harmony thought I wanted to keep them all for myself."

"You mean," Buffy managed to say through her laughter, "she still believed that, that-"

Cordelia smiled at Xander as Buffy collapsed in a fit of giggles.

"Remember when-" Willow began.

Out on the dance floor, someone screamed in agony.

"What was that?" Buffy said, straightening herself up.

"Another demon?" Cordelia suggested as she stood up, trying to see what the problem was.

The screaming had stopped now, but the dance floor was too quiet.

"And the evening was going so well." Xander said dryly.

It had been too. For a few brief minutes Cordelia had felt like a normal girl, with normal worries.

More people stared screaming, only to be quickly cut off.

A skull rolled out of the crowd, stopping at Cordelia's feet.

"Not a vampire," Buffy said, rummaging through her bag.

Cordelia looked down at the skull, then edged away.

Willow scowled. "One demon a day is enough."

People were running from the dance floor now, heading straight for the exits.

"More than enough." Cordelia said, peering through the thinning crowd.

She could see some bodies now; three people who looked like they'd been trampled in the rush and five headless corpses.

And in the middle she could see the demon; a furiously bubbling mass of black slime oozing out of the ground.

A dozen mouths opened in the slime, each crying "Tekeli Li!" in a high pitched voice, then vanished.

The slime bulged up, forming a dome five foot across, and growing.

Buffy pulled a large salt canister from her bag.

More mouths opened in the slime, each repeating the same nonsense words, then they too vanished.

"Get the injured out of here," Buffy said, then tossed a box of matches onto the table. "If it doesn't look like I'm winning, set the building on fire. It won't hurt me."

Xander picked the matches up. "You can't loose."

"I lost Owen," Buffy muttered, then walked boldly toward the demon; the salt held in one hand, her Osirian amulet gripped tightly in the other.

"Hey, demon!" she shouted. "Do you know what we do to gatecrashers?"  


  


  
Cordelia winced as the demon slammed Buffy against a wall, the sound of her bones shattering clearly audible even at Cordelia's distance.

At first, she had thought Buffy would win easily. The salt and the amulet had seared the demon, forcing it back, and its wild blows hadn't touched Buffy.

Then the floor under Buffy had disappeared, dropping her into darkness.

Before she had fallen two feet, the demon surged out of the new hole; a geyser of black slime bursting out of the floor, crushing Buffy against the ceiling as the demon swelled to its full height.

Buffy had never really recovered from that setback.

"Who's got the matches?" Cordelia asked.

"Xander," Willow said, "but we also need something to burn. The cushions are flame retardant, I think, and the tables are, um, too big for a match. Alcohol might work, not beer, too watery, but spirits. Does the Bronze stock them?"

"Great," Cordelia said. The bar was on the opposite side of the room, just a few feet from Buffy. If they tried going near there, the demon would get them.

"We could burn our clothes," Willow suggested, looking sideways at Xander.

"Not mine," Cordelia said sharply, "I'm not stripping in front of you, Xander. And Willow won't either."

Both of their outfits deserved to be burnt, but half-stripping Xander would have other benefits.

Willow nodded, looking slightly embarrassed, then quickly knelt down and started rummaging through Buffy's bag.

Stammering objections, Xander looked nervously around, then his gaze settled on Buffy.

The demon had knocked her down, again. Now it was oozing toward her, a twenty foot ball of bubbling slime shouting nonsense words in a thousand voices.

"Ok," Xander said quietly.

Willow stood up holding three stakes. "If we wrap the rags round these, we should get a big enough flame to burn the tables."

Cordelia looked thoughtfully at Xander's T-shirt. "Is there enough material for three?"

"I'm not taking anything else off," Xander said firmly. "Not in front of you girls."

"Do you really think either of us actually want to watch you strip?" Cordelia asked with feigned sarcasm.

"Willow's not that kind of girl. She doesn't think about those things."

Cordelia glared at Xander. "And what kind of girl am I?"

Looking annoyed, Willow dropped the stakes onto the table. "We don't have time to talk."

Cordelia glanced back at Buffy.

The demon was dripping slime on her, little droplets that ate away at her flesh, exposing the bone beneath.

Buffy wasn't in any physical danger, not with her new superhealing, and she should have the mental strength to endure such torture for days, but her clothes wouldn't last five minutes.

Buffy would not be happy if she ended up naked in front of them.

"She's right," Cordelia said quickly. "Get your shirt off, Xander."

Willow nodded, a faint smile on her face as she waited.

Xander dropped the matchbox on the table, hesitated, then pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it on the table.

Cordelia suppressed a smile. Xander's body wasn't quite up to his swimming team standard yet, that would take a year of running around after Buffy to achieve, but he was already a lot easier on the eye than his clothes suggested.

Xander shifted uneasily under her gaze, then crossed his arms and turned away, obscuring her view.

"I don't look that bad, do I?" he asked nervously.

"You'll do." Cordelia said noncommittally. She deserved some compensation for having her evening ruined by a demon, but telling Xander what she was thinking would make him nervous.

Instead she looked back toward Buffy, still being tormented with acid drops.

Buffy rolled across the floor, away from the demon, toward where she'd dropped the amulet.

The demon casually reached out and yanked her back.

Willow finished tying the T-shirt round the stake, then lit a match.

Cordelia frowned suspiciously. The flame was blue-white, not the normal yellow-red, and it was much too steady. Where had Buffy got that matchbox from?

Willow gingerly touched the match to the cloth, which began to burn with the same unnatural flame.

Cordelia grabbed the matchbox from Willow, then began reading it.

"Ignis hastae", she said, sounding out the unfamiliar words. "Made by blind monks from a rowan tree grown on the grave of a slayer, these matches burn with a sacred flame guaranteed to enhance all benign magics and to protect against the forces of darkness. Leto quoque custodiunto nos."

Cordelia looked up. "Must be watcher matches," she said, carefully putting the matchbox back on the table.

Xander picked the matchbox up, squinted at the small writing, then turned it over.

"All guarantees will be null and void," Xander read, "if these matches are used in Antarctica, Afghanistan, France, Haiti, Tokyo, or Transylvannia, or if they are used for defence against any dark power of godling rank or higher. If a failure of this product should leave you dead, undead, inhuman or soulless, please do not complain in person."

Xander smiled. "So, at least if we die Giles will get his money back."

Cordelia glanced over at the demon, currently busy trying to dissolve Buffy's knees. If that was a god, it was a pathetic weakling. A real god would just turn Buffy into a ant, then step on her.

"This will work," Cordelia said, looking at the flame. "Willow, what do we set fire to next?"

"Everything."  


  


  
"When you said everything," Cordelia said as they watched the Bronze burn, "I didn't think you meant my hair."

Willow winced.

"Cordy," Xander said. "It was an accident. Willow just tripped, and she did put the fire out."

"With a bottle of beer," Cordelia said, one hand plucking at her damp top. "Do you have any idea what I look like?"

Inwardly, Cordelia smiled. For once, she didn't have to restrain herself. She could tell Xander and Willow what she honestly thought of them, and they wouldn't hold it against her.

"My cousin Gwen," Xander said, smiling tentatively in what was obviously a feeble attempt to divert Cordelia's justified anger.

"Exactly," Cordelia said sharply. "Reme-"

Cordelia swallowed the end of the word. Xander didn't remember telling her about Gwen's problems, because he hadn't yet. Now he was looking curiously at her, clearly puzzled by what her objection to Gwen might be.

"Um, guys," Willow said nervously. "I think the demon's doing something new."

Grateful for the interruption, Cordelia turned away from Xander.

She couldn't see much, just two fast moving shapes silhouetted against the flames but if Willow thought something was going to happen she was probably right.

"Is it getting smaller?" she asked, looking uncertainly at the burning demon.

"Maybe," Willow said. "Volume is cubic. If it lost half its mass and, um, not fifteen, sixteen cubed is, um, we'd barely notice, but that's not what I meant. It's stopped fighting Buffy."

"That's good, isn't it?" Xander said.

"Last time we thought that," Cordelia reminded him, "it dissolved the floor underneath Buffy."

The demon flowed into a new shape, a single tall cylinder, higher than the flames.

Buffy stepped backwards.

The demon quivered, then fired a ball of black slime out of the top of the cylinder.

Now free of the flames, the ball began to reshape itself as it fell, while beneath it the cylinder slumped down into the flames, and was consumed.

"That's definitely different," Willow said, blushing.

Newly formed wings beating frantically, the demon lurched through the air, crashing into the roof of the building opposite. 

Buffy walked out of the fire, stepping over the burning rubble as blithely as if she was strolling through the mall, not a hair out of place, not a mark on her skin.

Unfortunately, the blood demon had not extended the same protection to Buffy's clothes.

Xander gulped, then looked away. 

A moment later Willow elbowed him in the ribs.

"Where'd that demon go?" Buffy asked, her posture alert.

Willow silently pointed up at the roof behind her. 

The demon was shifting into a new shape, sleeker but still winged.

Buffy scowled. "How am I supposed to fight something that can fly?"

"Buffy," Cordelia said slowly. "You're not really dressed for fighting."

"What!" Buffy said, brushing herself down, then "Oh. Right. Not much left, is there?"

Nothing at all, as far as Cordelia could tell, only a smearing of ashes.

"Got anything I could borrow?" Buffy added plaintively, while ineffectually trying to cover herself with her hands.

"We burnt it all." Xander said.

Buffy glanced at Xander's bare back. "So I see."

"Fortunately," Xander said smiling, "people round here are very unobservant."

"Not that unobservant." Willow said. "We'll have to find her some clothes."

The demon sprang into the air, circled once, then swooped down to attack.

Buffy snatched the matches from Willow, lit one, and held it up high.

The demon immediately swerved, flying into a wall.

Cordelia blinked.

The demon had gone straight through the wall, its acid touch dissolving a neat, almost cartoon like, hole.

"Must be switchable," Willow muttered as the demon surged through the roof.

It circled overhead once more, at a safe height, then with a final cry of "Tekeli Li!" flew away, soon disappearing into the clouds.

Two seconds later, the sirens started, fire engines rushing to the blaze.

Suspiciously convenient that, but it would have to wait.

"Looks like all the excitement's over," Cordelia said with what she hoped would be impressive calm, "See you tomorrow."  


  


  
"-or maybe a flame thrower," Xander said the next morning, looking at Buffy.

"They're not traditional," Willow said. "Giles wouldn't use something that modern."

"Greek fire," Cordelia said, remembering a conversation six months hence. "But there are too many things that could make the fuel tank explode. Now, can we please talk about something normal."

Ever since they'd all met up this morning, Xander had been going on about what fancy stuff Giles might have that Buffy could use to kill amorphous demons, like the slime demon and blood demon they'd met yesterday.

A natural enough line of speculation, of course, but quite pointless. It would be a lot more sensible, and discreet, to wait until they actually met Giles rather than talking about weird stuff in public.

"Too late," Buffy said, smiling, as she pushed open the library doors.

"Ooh!" Willow said, looking at the table. "More new books."

Cordelia glanced at the new pile of boxes, then at the line of crates still waiting to be unpacked. "I don't think so."

The books had been packed into sturdy crates; these new boxes looked like flimsy cardboard, far too weak to be filled with books, and the one emptied box appeared to be lined with white tissue paper.

"Giles!" Buffy shouted.

Xander walked over to the table and opened one of the smaller boxes.

"Definitely not books," he said, pulling out a woman's black shoe.

Cordelia took it from him; low-heeled and plain, at first glance it looked like the kind of thing Willow wore, but it smelt expensive. It was definitely quality leather, and hand-stitched too. 

Someone had spent a lot of money on a deeply unfashionable shoe.

"Oh, good," Giles said as he came out of his office. "You're here. Did you sleep well?"

"The meditation worked," Cordelia said quickly. She'd still had a few nightmares, each filled with the imagery of despair, but nothing she couldn't live with. "What's all this for?"

"Dame Margo is coming."

"Your boss?" Willow said tentatively.

Definitely bad news. If she started interfering it'd make it a lot harder for Cordelia to guide events, and there was a good chance Margo would be able to expose Cordelia's little deceptions.

"Why?" Buffy said.

Xander nodded. "You said they were going to leave us alone. You made me come here at the weekend so they'd leave us alone."

"That was before the council split." Giles said.

"What's she want?" Willow asked. "She can't make us stop being Buffy's friends."

"Dame Margo agrees it's too late for that," Giles said. "She said she was coming for the death gate."

"So she's not stopping." Buffy said.

"She'll only be here a few days," Giles confirmed. "But we'll need to tread carefully around her, hence the clothes."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Cordelia said sharply. Judging by the shoe, Margo had lousy taste.

"They didn't wear clothes like that when Dame Margo was young," Giles said, smiling faintly. "She is prepared to tolerate them as casual wear, -"

"How generous," Buffy said as Xander asked "How old is she?"

"Those records are sealed." Giles said. "But her slayer died in 1916."

"So she's an alchemist," Willow said.

After a moment's thought Cordelia nodded. Margo must have been around Giles's age back then, and that was eighty years ago, so she had to be at least one hundred and twenty now. People could live that long without using magic, but only just and they were all far too decrepit to actually do anything. Margo must be using magic to stay alive, and the only such magic Cordelia had heard of was alchemy.

"She spent forty years in her lab after her fall, mastering the basics."

"Slow," Xander observed.

"Alchemy is hard," Giles said. "Most watchers who attempt the great work die of old age before they can learn how to hold back the ravages of time."

"Why?" Willow asked. "Can't they just do what the last one did?"

"This isn't science," Giles said. "The rituals that would give me eternal life would kill you, and vice versa."

Seeing the intrigued look on Willow's face Cordelia quickly spoke, before the conversation could get completely sidetracked. 

"So what are the clothes for?"

"Ceremonial purposes," Giles replied. "Dame Margo is fond of ceremonial."

"She wants us to dress up?" Xander said.

"Only for her presentation to Buffy. As civilians, less is expected of you."

"She's going to give me a present?" Buffy said, looking slightly confused.

"No," Giles said. "First she'll deliver the shortened ritual greeting of the slayer, that should only take an hour, then-"

"An hour!" Buffy exclaimed. "What's she going to do."

"We're lucky Dame Margo isn't staying long," Giles said. "The full version takes three days. Then, after that, these three will be invited into your presence. I will, um, 'proclaim their heroic deeds', then she will declare them worthy. Old-fashioned nonsense, but Dame Margo insists."

Or in plain English, 'I'm really on your side. Margo is making me do this.' Giles had to trying to make sure Margo's eccentricities didn't reflect badly on him.

"But haven't done anything heroic," Willow said. "Buffy's the hero. We just help her."

"That counts," Giles said. "Use a few stock phrases and some archaic language, and it'll sound a lot more impressive. Really though, it's enough for Dame Margo that you've chosen to help Buffy. Everything else is just to satisfy her love of pomp."

Cordelia nodded, remembering how she had bluffed Darla. "Did not we battle the minions of the master of flesh and blood beneath the dread gaze of the lords of Knn-Yrr?"

For a moment Willow looked strangely triumphant, then she put on her poker face, an expression so clearly fake it stank of ill-concealed secrets.

Cordelia quickly reviewed her last few words, then smiled inwardly. She had accidentally fuelled Willow's suspicions, but her slip had been so unspecific it would just reinforce Giles and Willow's misconceptions.

Xander smiled. "Cordy's always been good at boasting."

Cordelia deliberately smiled back, as if she had been complimented, then looked at Giles. "I'm not wearing those shoes. They're ugly."

"Dame Margo insists," Giles repeated.

"So?" Cordelia said. Margo was Giles's boss, not hers.

"It will save much trouble if we humour Dame Margo."

"Until the next time she comes."

"It should give my party time to prevent her returning."

Cordelia hesitated. Giles knew more than she did about the internal politics of the watcher's council, so he was probably right. Humouring Margo probably would give his friends in the council time to stop her coming back.

Still, Cordelia wasn't a watcher. She shouldn't have to follow their rules. Surely Giles could sweet-talk Margo by himself, without requiring her to wear ugly clothes.

Willow carefully lifted a black silk dress out of one of the boxes. Floor length, with a pleated skirt, and a high neck line, it looked expensive but several decades out of fashion. The silvery crosses embroidered on the bodice looked like a good idea though.

Buffy looked disdainfully at the dress. "Find another way."

"I think this is supposed to be for you," Willow said, passing a top hat to Xander.

"You want me to wear a suit," he protested. "I'll look silly."

He couldn't look any worse than he normally did. In fact, given how little men's fashions changed, he'd probably had the least to complain about.

"It would only be for twenty minutes," Giles said. "It's supposed to be a sign of your respect for the slayer."

"But I don't want him to." Buffy said.

"It's not for you, as such," Giles said. "It's like the difference between respecting the presidency and respecting the incumbent."

Xander half-smiled, then pulled a silver-topped cane out of one of the boxes. "I'm not old. Why do I need a walking stick?"

Giles took the cane then, holding it parallel to the ground, then pressed his thumb down.

A six-inch wooden spike sprang out of the base.

Xander smiled, and took the cane back. "Now that, I like."

"Dame Margo's party believe those who fight the dark forces should never go unarmed. Sound in principle, perhaps, but not very practical with modern clothes."

"What do we get?" Cordelia asked, wondering how many supporters Margo had in her party, and how influential they might be. "A spring-loaded parasol?"

Giles carefully pulled two boxes from the bottom of the pile, then opened one and took out a gold-encrusted fan; very shiny, but too gaudy for Cordelia's liking.

"Dame Margo once killed a vampire with one of these," Giles said, opening the fan to reveal an oil painting of an old man in a library reading by candlelight.

"When he asked her for a dance," Giles said, "she held out her hand to be kissed-"

Giles nudged one of the jewels.

Silently the steel emerged from under the gold, a sharp-looking blade running along the leading edge of the fan.

"The vampire bent down to do her the honour-"

Giles whipped the fan down, hard.

"-and lost its head."

Margo must have had strong nerves. Personally, Cordelia would have liked a slightly longer ranged weapon. 

A hundred yards sounded about right; just close enough to tell they weren't human.

Giles smiled as he put the fan down. "They're also heavy enough to make a decent club."

"There are only two," Willow said. "Why?"

"Buffy's slayerhood is felt to be weapon enough."

"There are only two dress boxes, as well," Buffy said. "And Xander's suit. What does she expect me to wear?"

"Um, yes, well," Giles said slowly. "The ceremonial dress of a slayer is of somewhat older vintage."

"How old?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"Our records don't say," Giles said. "Um, I'll just fetch it, shall I."

Giles hurried back into his office.

"What do you think?" Xander asked. "Medieval, roman, or cavewoman?"

Giles wheeled the costume out, without offering any excuses.

The boots were passable, Cordelia supposed; dove-grey was not a good colour but the knee-high legs would be flattering; and the leather miniskirt would have looked nice if someone hadn't covered it in metal studs. 

The top wasn't much better; a leather T-shirt, in the same drab shade of grey, with a white tree painted on the front and, resting on its trunk, a scroll and a spear. Cordelia knew she was attractive enough to get away with wearing that ensemble, but Buffy certainly wasn't.

Not even Cordelia had enough poise to carry off the helmet though.

No one wore hats these days, especially not metal ones, and even when they had they'd only walked around with a few feathers in their cap, not an entire bird.

This helmet had a stuffed seagull mounted on top.

The strangest thing, though, was that someone had mounted the entire outfit on a life-size copper statue of Buffy, not something Cordelia would have expected Giles to have.

"I am not wearing that thing," Buffy said flatly.

"Who made the statue?" Willow asked. "You couldn't have had the time."

"Dame Margo," Giles said, not looking at Buffy.

"How?" Willow asked. "They've never met."

"There are many spells that can summon the image of the slayer," Giles said. "Dame Margo must have cast one, then used her alchemy to make it real. She'll have done the same to get your measurements; used a recording of your interview with the board to conjure your image, then solidified it."

"You mean she's got a statue of me?" Xander said. "With, you know, nothing missing?"

"I don't think she'll keep it long," Giles replied. "Not unless you really impress her."

And Margo was much too old to be impressed by that kind of thing. At least, Cordelia hoped so.

For all she knew, thanks to her alchemy Margo might now look twenty, with two lifetimes of experience. Competing with that would be difficult, even for Cordelia.

"I'm not wearing that," Buffy repeated. "I'll bet she won't be."

Giles looked down at the table. "Dame Margo will be making other sacrifices."

"Such as?" Buffy challenged.

"You'll be sitting over there, on the top step," Giles said, pointing.

"Dame Margo will enter through the library doors," Giles said, "on her hands and knees. She will then crawl across the library, stopping every five yards to sing a hymn of paean to the slayer. When she finally reaches you she will kiss the ground at your feet, then beg for your permission to serve the slayer."

"So that's why it'll take an hour," Cordelia said quietly. "How long has she been mad?"

The singing was merely eccentric, but crawling around on the floor was undignified, especially at Margo's age. No sane person would volunter to do anything so demeaning.

"Why?" Buffy asked. "I don't want people crawling at my feet. Tell her she doesn't have to do it."

"Dame Margo wants to." Giles said. "She thinks if she doesn't abase herself she will start to place herself above you."

Giles scowled. "Completely unnecessary, of course. I've never done anything like that, and I have no difficulty remembering that it is you who is on the sharp end. I've never thought of you as merely a weapon in my hand, and I never will. None of us do. We all know the truth, without need of obsolete ceremonies to remind us."

"So tell her that." Buffy said.

"I have," Giles said. "But there are very few people who can out-argue Dame Margo, and I am not one of them. She is determined to perform this ceremony, irrespective of our wishes."

"If I don't come, she won't be able do it."

Giles sighed. "Dame Margo might not let that stop her. Time permitting, she will hunt you down, force you into the appropriate costume, and pay her respects, even if she has to use magic." 

"Strange way to show respect," Xander muttered, while Buffy silently fumed.

"Her party often does seem to pay more respect for the position than for the person."

"They influential, much?" Cordelia said, deliberately giving Giles the opening he seemed to be angling for. Normally, she wouldn't have been interested in the internal politics of the council, but now it looked like she might be about to become entangled in it.

"I'm not supposed to speak about such things, but since you asked ..." Giles said, smiling. 

"There have always been many factions within the council, many different views about our proper role, and that of the slayer. Dame Margo's is a old faction, discredited since the twenties, after the scandal over her expenses. As its then leader, she was forbidden to hold any office, and placed under house arrest, but she is an adroit politician. She quietly studied alchemy while the memories faded, then traded her continued silence for a place on the committees, where she caught the eye of the board."

Giles scowled again. "Travers was highly placed in my party, until his rebellion. We have controlled the council for seventy glorious years, but now Travers's idiocy has placed all that in jeopardy. If he'd had enough self-restraint to confine his protests to the traditional channels, you would never have heard of Dame Margo, or her discredited policies, but instead he threw a tantrum, and brought our party down. Now we must pay the price for his folly."

So the council was leaderless, and the fanatics running loose? Not good news.

No doubt Giles's friends would regain control soon, it sounded like they were the only sane candidates, but until then the council would be more hindrance than help. 

"Could Margo take over the council?" Willow asked.

"You mustn't call her that." Giles said quickly. "Address her as Dame Margo, or Custos Sophiae Veterrimus. The board does not permit its members to take any other position of authority within the council, but Dame Margo's reputation may be enough to garner support for her party. They are considered moderates, and they do have recent-"

"I don't care about the politics." Buffy said sharply. "I'll call her what I like."

"Dame Margo will acccept that from the slayer," Giles said. "But if the rest of us are disrespectful she will be most disappointed."

"I can live with that," Xander said.

Willow looked down at the table. "Can Giles?"

Cordelia caught her meaning immediately. Giles had said yesterday there were squads of watchers hunting down everyone who seemed disloyal, and Cordelia was pretty sure they wouldn't bother with a fair trial, not when the council was in the middle of a civil war.

Anything that might make Giles a target would definitely be a bad idea. He wouldn't be in any actual danger, Buffy would see to that, but fighting off vigilante watchers would be a distraction from the main battle.

Buffy frowned. "I won't let Margo do anything to you, Giles. Ignore her."

Giles winced. "It is not quite that simple."

Cordelia nodded. "We already have enough problems with the hellmouth, without having to fight watchers as well."

Xander scowled. "They're supposed to be on our side."

"They are," Giles said. "But they're not sure if I am."

"So we should tread carefully now," Willow said, "to avoid trouble later."

Xander looked down at the suit. "What's the worse they can do? Take away his library card?"

Giles did not respond.

"Get him deported?" Xander suggested, more hesitantly this time.

Giles looked at Xander, but stayed silent, neatly disassociating himself from the emotional blackmail he was relaying.

"They wouldn't kill you, would they?" Xander said quietly. "Not for that?"

"Dame Margo would not give such orders," Giles said, not exactly a denial.

Willow looked briefly uncertain, then smiled faintly. "But her followers might hear them."

"There is precedent-" Giles said.

"Thomas á Becket." Willow interupted.

Not a name that meant anything to Cordelia, but Giles clearly recognised it.

"Among others," he said. "If Dame Margo were to deem me unsatisfactory in this time of crisis, there are many who would take it as proof of my supposed disloyalty, and some who would attempt to satisfy her presumed wishes with my head."

"So make her say she doesn't want you dead." Buffy said firmly.

"That will only work if Dame Margo sounds like she means it, which means humouring her." 

Buffy hesitated, then looked uncertainly at Giles. "Margo doesn't have any other strange ideas, does she?"

"Dame Margo holds somewhat idiosyncratic views on many topics-" Giles said.

"He means yes," Cordelia interpreted, thinking about the way Giles was talking.

He'd condemned Margo's policies, and rightly so, but he'd been very careful not to overtly criticise Margo herself. Why? Was it out of fear, or out of respect? If fear, then Margo didn't take criticism of her policies personally; if respect, Giles would not be a reliable protection against her dictat. Cordelia needed to know to be able to deal with Margo effectively.

Ignoring Cordelia's comment Giles continued, "but she will only be here a few days, not long enough to do much. At worst, you might put on a few pounds."

"Why?" Buffy asked, looking puzzled.

"Dame Margo likes slayers to be well fed."

"Don't you?" Willow asked.

"I don't quite think Buffy needs to dine on champagne, chocolate and caviar every single day," Giles said smiling.

Well, that explained Margo's problem with her expenses.

"Once might be nice," Buffy said, looking intently at Giles. "Will you tell us all her other strange ideas?"

Giles nodded.

"Then I'll do this silly ceremony," Buffy said slowly, "for your sake."   


  


  
Cordelia waited patiently while Mrs Bodsworth carefully searched, looking for bugs. It was embarrassing, standing around in her underwear while some prim-looking elderly woman looked her over but, after hearing what Margo herself could do with a recorded voice, she could understand the necessity. Creating a statue might be mostly harmless but there would certainly be other, more sinister uses for that technique, uses with which Margo's enemies were probably all too familiar.

"Are you sure nobody will come in here?" Willow asked, for the fourth time.

"Dame Margo's magics do not fail," Mrs Bodsworth said, glancing meaningfully at the classroom door, where the ward hung.

Mrs Bodsworth claimed it was a powerful piece of magic that would leave anyone without permission unaware the classroom even existed, but to Cordelia it just looked like a dozen grey feathers stuck in a lump of clay.

Still, Cordelia had seen enough real magic to know it didn't always look spectacular. She was prepared to take trust that piece of apparent junk, for now. Besides, if it did happen to fail the leverage that failure would give her over Margo would be worth the embarrassment.

"Wouldn't it be safer to simply lock the door?" Willow persisted.

"Dame Margo felt this was the most effective way of achieving her aims," Mrs Bodsworth said.

Then Margo had a very casual attitude to the use of magic, more so than anyone else Cordelia had seen, which fitted with what Giles had said about her.

"But what do you think?" Willow asked.

Cordelia suppressed a sigh. Mrs Bodsworth was Margo's aide, and had been for over twenty years. There was no way Willow's crude tactics would get her to say anything against her boss; they would only annoy her. 

"Dame Margo is never wrong," Mrs Bodsworth said in tones that scorned the possibility of doubt.

"Must be nice, working for her," Cordelia said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "No worries, no doubts."

Mrs Bodsworth half-smiled, then grabbed a handful of Cordelia's hair. "Dame Margo will not like this."

"What?" Cordelia said sharply. "I have good hair."

Willow smiled.

"Too easy for an enemy to grab hold of," Mrs Bodsworth explained. "For now, I'll put it up, but Dame Margo will insist on it being cut." 

There was a lot Cordelia could have said to that, but it would be pointless arguing with Mrs Bodsworth. It wasn't her opinion Cordelia needed to change; it was Margo's.

Instead Cordelia looked pointedly at Miss Bodsworth's outfit, a grey dress in the same drab style as the black ones Margo had sent, but with a grey shawl worn over it, and faked a thoughtful frown.

"I thought you'd wear white," she said, trying to sound curious. She wasn't really interested in hearing about Margo's fashion tips, not when the woman was decades out of date, but the answer should give her a better feel for Margo's personality.

Mrs Bodsworth smiled. "We're human, creatures of the grey lands, where sunlight fades into shadow. We can not dwell in light undimmed. Its full glory would blind us as surely as its absence, and abomination would follow thereafter."

Mrs Bodsworth paused, her lips pursed in concentration as she threaded a silk ribbon through Cordelia's hair.

"No," she went on. "The light is not for the likes of us. Better to wear grey, and remember our human failings, than to aspire to the white, and fall short."

That wasn't a sentiment Cordelia could ever agree with, far too defeatist for her liking, but it did help suggest what arguments Margo would be vulnerable to.

"I suppose Margo wears white," Willow said. "She can't have many failings, not if she's never wrong."

Cordelia winced as Mrs Bodsworth's hands tightened in her hair. Willow did have a point, the humble words of Margo's aides didn't really fit with Margo's own arrogance, but this was not a good time for an argument.

"Dame Margo has wisdom enough not to speak while doubt remains," Miss Bodsworth said firmly. "Do not think to judge her, child. You could not even begin to grasp the subtleties of her thoughts."

"Bodsworth," Willow snapped. "You can't tell me what to think. Th-"

Mrs Bodsworth rapped Willow across the knuckles with the hair brush. "You will address us with proper respect."

"I'm afraid Willow's parents are very progressive," Cordelia said hastily, before Willow could dig herself deeper in. They needed to concentrate their fire on Margo herself, not waste their energies scrapping with her flunkies. "Perhaps if I have a quick word with her?"

Mrs Bodsworth stepped back and looked at Cordelia, then nodded. "You'll do. See if you can talk some sense into her, and ask for help should you have any trouble with your underskirts."

Willow scowled as Cordelia dragged her to the far side of the classroom.

"Why-" Willow said, far too loudly.

"Quieter," Cordelia said softly, her glare silencing Willow. "Do you want her to hear? And don't whisper either. That wouldn't look good."

"You're not taking her side?" Willow said quietly. "I thought-"

"Our argument is with Margo, not with her flunkies, and if we butter her up ..."

Cordelia waited for Willow to get the implication.

"You think she might give stuff away. You want to cross-check what Giles told us?"

Cordelia nodded. "Next time, remember to read between the lines. I know you're smart enough."

Willow had no hope of ever matching Cordelia's social skills but if she put her mind to it she should be able to do well enough, by more normal standards.

Looking half-apologetic, half annoyed, Willow began babbling.

"I was doing that, with her. I didn't have to expect to do it with you as well, not because I think you're not smart enough to do it, which you are, smart enough I mean, not doing it, though you are that too, but because you're, well, you. And you shouldn't have talked about my parents like that, or dragged me-"

Cordelia gently tapped Willow on the arm, before she could say something unforgivable. "Mrs Bodsworth is waiting for you."

"For Giles, right?" Willow said.

Cordelia nodded.

Willow sighed, then walked slowly over to where Mrs Bodsworth stood waiting.  


  


  
"Have you done something to your hair?" Xander asked, looking at Cordelia and Willow.

"Apparently," Cordelia said, patting her bun, "Dame Margo is worried someone might try pulling our hair."

"But nothing can get in the library. The board gave Giles magic stones to prevent that, right?"

"Dame Margo did," Mr Bodsworth said, "but there is a principle to be upheld."

Ignoring him, Willow smiled nervously at Xander. "How do I look?"

Xander hesitated. "Good."

Cordelia didn't believe him. The classroom hadn't had any mirrors, so Cordelia hadn't been able to get a good look at herself, but one glance at Willow was enough to show the dresses were putting ten years on them.

Cordelia did not appreciate being made to look like some twenty-five year old spinster.

Xander's outfit did make him look older too, but for him that was a good thing. Xander looked like a man of the world now, not a callow youth. The skillful tailoring of the suit helped too, making Xander look subtly taller and slimmer.

Xander had definitely got the best of the bargain.

Mrs Bodsworth stepped out of the library. "Everything's ready now."

"Finally," Xander muttered.

"Patience is a virtue," Mr Bodsworth said sharply. "Waiting two minutes should not test yours."

"You have had your instructions," Mrs Bodsworth went on. "Try not to disgrace Mr Giles."

"We won't, Mrs" Willow said, glancing sideways at Cordelia.

Mrs Bodsworth looked at her husband, who nodded back, then they fully opened both halves of the library door.

Cordelia looked through the open doors, trying to see Buffy, but she was too far to the left.

"Three seek audience," Mr Bodsworth announced.

"I will vouch for their worth," Giles replied, his voice ringing out from within the library.

"Stand forth, and be recognised," Mr Bodsworth said. "Master Alexander of Sunnydale,"

Xander strolled into the centre of the doorway, halfway between the Bodsworths.

"Miss Cordelia of Sunnydale,"

Cordelia stepped gracefully forward to stand at Xander's right.

Now she could see Buffy, in full costume, sitting on the top step, a box of chocolates in her lap.

She didn't look happy.

Cordelia quickly glanced at Giles, looking rather out of place swathed in his grey cloak, then looked down at the foot of the steps, where the cause of all this needless fuss was sitting, a grey-haired old lady with a contented smile.

Cordelia was not fooled. Everything else about Margo, from her ramrod straight posture to her unwavering gaze, spoke of a lady of iron will, long accustomed to trampling over all opposition. Others, far stronger than you, have challenged me, Margo's face seemed to say, and failed utterly. What hope have you?

It was a look Cordelia had often tried practising in the mirror, with only limited success. She'd developed a glare that could silence the likes of Willow and Harmony, a useful addition to her social armoury, but she knew she didn't look anywhere near as intimidating as Margo. Not even her aunt could have managed that feat.

Still, Cordelia was not daunted. Margo was on her terrritory now, among people who cared nothing for her reputation, who did not respect her supposed authority. Formidable though Margo clearly was, she would be accustomed to manipulating watchers; her techniques finely tuned to exploit the shared habits of thought ingrained in them all by their common training.

Against Cordelia and her friends, none of whom had shared that training, most of those techniques would be useless.

"These are the three who would be admitted to the company of the slayer," Mr Bodsworth announced, breaking Cordelia's concentration.

Dame Margo looked at Giles. "Ausa cane sua, tutor hastae augustissima, ut censeam suum pretium."

Cordelia had only understood one word in all that gibberish, but she recognised the language: Latin, just as Giles as warned them. Apparently, Margo thought dead languages sounded more impressive, which showed how little she understood her current audience.

Cordelia took a second look at Margo, carefully comparing her clothing with Mrs Bodsworth's. Margo's dress had more embroidery, her shawl had a lace edging, and she was wearing an ugly green broach, presumably all signs of her status in the watchers, which should make mocking them a good way to knock Margo off-balance.

Giles smiled. "Of their deeds I shall sing, oh custos sophiae veterrimi, that you may marvel, for these children of the hellmouth have done such things as should be the wonder of the age. Truly, their names should be revered throughout the land; their deeds celebrated in song and story."

Cordelia half-smiled. That was true, of course. Her name should be revered, and the others deserved a little fame. Giles didn't really believe that though, he was just using the standard laudatory formulas, which made the compliments much less satisfying. 

"Bellum nostra secreto bellandum est," Margo said. "Clamare populi nobis erit numquam. Si veritatem tuum verbum est, nos unica suum ausum potest meminisse."

Margo did have a beautiful voice, perfect for voice-overs, but Cordelia still wasn't impressed.

"Then I shall sing," Giles said, "lest their names be forgotten, and their deeds fade from all memory."  


  


  
"And so they went," Giles sang ten minutes later, "where few would dare, the place of death, the reaper's lair, daring battle to save a friend, that he not meet early his end."

Which had been just two nights ago, so Giles couldn't have that much left to sing about.

At least Giles had a good singing voice, not as nice as Margo's but still decent, and his words were pleasant to hear. It would have been better if he'd skipped over the verses about Xander and Willow, neither of who deserved such praise, but the verses about her, those she could have listened to for hours on end.

Margo seemed to like the song too. She'd been saying 'venite propius' every few verses, and beckoning them closer, just as Giles had said she would if all went well.

Now, they were halfway to Buffy, and the ceremony was nearing its end. Soon it would be over, and Cordelia would get the chance to show Margo how little her status among the watchers meant here in Sunnydale.

"But behind them others followed," Giles sang. "To danger blind they walked death's road."

"Halt." Margo said abruptly, the first English word she'd spoken. "Someone comes."

She paused, fingering her broach, then looked at Giles. "Mr Giles, you have erred, and endangered my security. Was this on purpose?"

"Dame Margo," Giles said quickly. "I assure you I know nothing about this. I'd never seek to harm you, never."

"Incompetence, then, Mr Giles," Margo said. "But one must make allowance for the follies of youth. I will exact no penance."

Hearing the unspoken threat, Willow winced but Cordelia smiled. Margo wouldn't be wasting time with her posturing if she thought their unexpected visitor a threat, not if she was even half as competent as she looked.

Looking unruffled, Giles glanced at the doors then asked, "Dame Margo, I am at somewhat of a loss. I was under the impression nothing short of a full god could penetrate your wards."

Cordelia carefully watched Margo's reaction to the covert insult, half expecting trouble, then relaxed. Judging by the way Margo's lips had twitched, Giles's information about her had been right. She really did relish verbal combat, so much so she was prepared to overlook minor transgressions rather than deny herself the thrill of the fight.

That would make Cordelia's life much easier. She'd be able to confront Margo overtly, without endangering Giles, as long as she heeded the rest of Giles's advice; to act respectfully, lose gracefully, and show no emotions.

"Mr Giles," Margo said, "need I remind you of the power inherent in an invitation, however illicitly gained?"

Buffy leaned forward. "Just tell us who's coming."

Dame Margo smiled. "Patience. She will be here in three seconds. You may stand at ease."

As she finished speaking, Margo leaned back against the stairs and closed her eyes.

Cordelia half-turned, then took one step backward, giving herself a clear view of both the doorway and Margo.

The doors swung open.

Harmony stared into the room, her initial composure swiftly giving way to unconcealed shock migled with a hint of fear.

She quickly hid her emotions behind a scowl, a moment too late. "What weird stuff are you freaks doing now?"

"Play rehearsal," Xander said, staring at Harmony.

"For Boadicea," Willow added, glancing at Margo. "You know, the Shakespeare play you saw us rehearsing once before. Doesn't Buffy's costume look great?"

Cordelia just stared at Harmony, wondering who could be desperate enough to use her in their plans. She couldn't be here by pure chance, even if some slip of the tongue had given her an accidental invite she still wouldn't have gone anywhere near the library under normal circmstances, so someone must have arranged this, but why? What use could Harmony be?

Harmony started to look at Buffy, then stiffened, her gaze locked on Margo.

"Why are you here?" Giles asked.

"This is a library," Harmony said, still looking thoughtfully at Margo.

"I don't recall ever seeing you here before." Giles said pointedly.

Harmony finally looked away from Margo. "No, I have a life, not like these freaks. Who's the lady?"

"A colleague," Cordelia said. "Why did you come here, today?"

Harmony hesitated. "I won't let you hang round these freaks any longer. It's bad for my -"

"Harmony," Cordelia snapped, her hand tightening on her fan, "Do you enjoy being popular?"

Harmony laughed. "Did you?"

"I always will," Cordelia said, unphased by Harmony's empty threat. "You are-"

"Of course," Harmony said. "You wouldn't have heard. You've been spending so much time with these freaks that-"

"Harmony," Buffy said, her voice dangerously low. "I am not a freak. None of us are."

Harmony laughed again. "Looked in the mirror lately?"

"That's a costume." Xander said hotly.

Harmony looked scornfully at him. "One you picked, no doubt. It looks like something out of your comic books."

"I-" Xander began, then Willow leant over and whispered something in his ear, silencing.

Harmony looked back at Buffy. "You are a freak. You can't hide it. You could have been normal, like me."

Harmony hesitated thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps not quite like me. You don't have my natural beauty, or my way with people, but I could have helped you disguise those flaws. If you wore quality clothes, not your normal rags, and had your hair and make-up done professionally people wouldn't notice how short and fat you are, or how grotesque your nose is."

"Cordelia," Buffy said quietly. "How long has your friend been mad?"

"Thirty-six hours," Cordelia replied smiling, hoping the detailed knowledge falsely implied by her precision would unsettle both Harmony and Margo.

Ignoring the quick exchange, Harmony rambled on. "-normal inside, but you aren't. Normal people would have avoided those two losers, and that monstrosity."

Harmony spat the last word, pointing at Cordelia, her face contorted with hate.

"Harmony," Giles said. "You-"

"Shut up." Harmony shouted. "You don't know anything important. You're as bad as Buffy, wasting time on saving losers while the real cri-"

"Enough," Margo said, her voice a silk-wrapped sword, and Harmony stopped midword.

"Furis cassum pretium sunt verba," Margo added, looking steadily at Harmony.

Cordelia looked at Margo, then suppressed a shudder. Margo had dropped the sweet-old-lady act.

Harmony winced, as if struck, then looked down at the floor.

"Look at me, wretch," Margo said softly, and Harmony's head jerked back up.

After a few seconds Harmony began to shake.

Cordelia started rethinking her plans. She was stronger than Harmony, of course. She wouldn't crumble beneath Margo's gaze, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of personality now visible in her eyes, but still it might be best not to provoke Margo too much.

"What was that gibberish?" Harmony said; a brave show of defiance undermined by her unsteady voice.

"Not just ill-mannered, but ill-educated too," Margo said. "There would not be much doubt about your future profession, even if your clothes did not proclaim it."

Willow smiled.

Margo looked at Mrs Bodsworth. "Agatha, you will cover her up."

Mrs Bodsworth looked around, fingered her shawl hesitantly, then scowled and dashed into Giles's office.

"Mr Giles," Margo said. "You may have the honour of translating my words."

Mrs Bodsworth -no, Agatha- dashed out of Giles's office, carrying the overflowing wastepaper basket and a roll of sellotape.

Giles frowned, almost imperceptibly, as Agatha began sticking the cardboard from the parcels to Harmony, who shifted uneasily but, still transfixed by Margo's gaze, did not dare protest.

"As you wish, Dame Margo," Giles said. "The words of a thief are worthless."

"Hey!" Harmony said hotly, then paled beneath the lash of Margo's redoubled stare.

"I'm not a thief," Harmony added, her voice barely audible.

Margo toned her gaze back down a notch, then smiled, showing perfect teeth. "Did you buy that supposed dress? No. You did not. Nor did your mother, or your father, or your latest beaux. No, that dress was not bought for you, was it."

Harmony's expression shifted, from initial shock, through impotent fury, to realisation. "You know?"

"Answer my question, wretch," Margo said, the steel now showing through the silk.

"No, it wasn't," Harmony admitted, her voice a broken reed. "But I had no choice."

"The oldest excuse." Margo said disdainfully. "There is always a choice."

Cordelia frowned, digging through old memories. It had been nearly two years ago, for her, four months for the rest of the world, but she was almost certain she'd seen Harmony buy that dress.

Yes, that sounded right. Late December, it had been, for the Christmas parties.

And yet Harmony's admission had sounded genuine, and her whispered 'You know?' seemed to confirm its truth. How could that be?

"It wasn't really theft." Harmony muttered. "Friends share everything."

"And where is your friend now?" Margo asked. "In what hell did you abandon her that she could not follow you hither?" 

"I'm the one whose been through hell." Harmony feebly protested. "You should-"

"I will not take instruction from you, wretch," Margo said. "And the third party has not insulted the slayer."

"Dame Margo," Giles said, looking uneasily at Harmony. "Does this matter truly fall within our jurisdiction? Insults to the slayer, however grievous, are-"

"Mr Giles," Margo said, the steel once more masked in silk. "I would never exceed my authority. This matter would fall to me even were not its resolution entangled in prophecy."

"Dame Margo," Giles said. "May I remind you that, as tutor augustissimae hastae, I hold amongst my perogatives the prosection of violators of the ancient law."

"Mr Giles," Margo said, turning to face him. "Your failure to interpret this prophecy imperiled my security, a lapse which places the matter into my hand."

"My apologies, Dame Margo," Giles said unconvincingly. "May I at least know what this prophecy is."

Margo smiled. "Translated from the original Tibetan, it reads, in part: 'When the old man first dances before the great mother on the day of the sea-foam's daughter, then shall the exiled queen battle for her former throne.' Now do you understand your error, Mr Giles?"

Harmony looked briefly thoughtful, then nodded to herself, clearly pleased.

"That's tomorrow." Giles said, "but I do not see the relevance, Dame Margo. That girl is neither a queen nor a throne."

Harmony smiled, apparently amused by Giles's incomprehension. She must think she knew what the prophecy meant, implausible though that sounded; unless, perhaps, she knew some other secret that fitted with it.

"I see the relevance, Mr Giles. Do you wish to dispute my judgement?"

"No, Dame Margo," Giles hastily assured her.

Buffy leaned forward, scowling. "Harmony isn't worth talking about. Get rid of her, and we can get on with this ... ceremony."

Harmony looked nervously at Margo, who was still facing Giles, then scowled back at Buffy. "Selfish, much?"

Margo turned to face Harmony

Harmony squealed in terror as she stumbled backwards, into Agatha.

Cordelia couldn't blame her. Her gaze upped another notch, Margo now seemed aglow with fury, a figure of menace to rival Angelus at his worst. This was a woman who fought the dark for untold years, a woman whose wrath even the demons must fear, and now it was focused on a single helpless girl.

Harmony might as well have challenged Buffy to a wrestling match.

Cordelia smiled, wondering how long it would take her to learn that look. It should certainly prove useful next time she needed to negotiate an extension on her homework, or an increase in her allowance.

Agatha helped Harmony steady herself, then cuffed her across the back of the head. "You were warned, wretch."

"Um, sorry, dame?" Harmony stuttered.

Margo smiled, a shark's smile.

Giles frowned, clearly displeased.

"What, I wonder," Margo said slowly, "do you think should be the slayer's priority? Waiting on you, hand and foot? I'm sure we'd all love to hear what passes for wisdom in your empty head."

Willow and Buffy both smiled, but now Xander was looking uncertain.

"I was thinking about that exiled queen." Harmony said quietly, an obvious riposte.

Too obvious, in fact. Margo was considered verbally adroit even by watcher standards; she would not make such slips accidentally.

Margo turned down her gaze to almost friendly level, a move Cordelia watched with grave suspicion. If that weak apology had been enough to appease Margo, she would have stood down immediately. She hadn't, so she must still be planning some punishment for Harmony's insult. 

"Are you going to help her?" Harmony continued with growing confidence. "Could you do something now?"

"One might almost think you had a personal interest," Margo said, her tone dismissing the possibility.

Harmony shifted uneasily. "Could you?"

That really did sound like personal concern, despite Margo's implication, but Harmony had never cared about anyone except herself. Harmony must know some secret, one that suggested the prophecy was all about her, which knowledge might also explain her recent strange behaviour.

"I could," Margo said, "but side stepping prophecy is a hazardous business for we whose souls do not echo to the laughter of the bells."

Xander looked sharply at Margo, a question hovering on his half-open lips, but then he hesitated, and chose silence, the wisest thing Cordelia had seen him do in months.

"So, the queen will have to wait until tomorrow?" Harmony said. "Will you help her then?"

Buffy yawned, then looked at Giles, who shook his head.

"I might," Margo said, "If I were convinced she would be a better tenant of that throne."

Harmony blinked at that setback, then asked, "If this queen didn't know how to get her throne back, wouldn't you have to tell her how?"

"Indeed, I would," Margo said. "Lest prophecy be denied. I would have to arrange for the necessary items to come into that queen's possession."

Or, in plain English, Margo would help this queen get ready for the fight tomorrow, not something she'd have bothered telling Harmony unless Margo too thought her to be that queen, and if Margo thought that she was almost certainly right.

That must also be why Margo had maneuvered the conversation onto that topic; temporarily deferring her revenge for Harmony's last insult.

Harmony smiled, blissfully unware of her impending doom.

"Agatha," Margo said, "I believe the wretch's outfit is now adequately modest."

By Victorian standards, perhaps. From neck to ankle, Harmony was swathed in cardboard, a level of coverage that was, by any reasonable standard, almost nunnish.

Agatha nodded and stepped back.

"Harmony," Margo said, the steel back on display, "will you promise that in public, from now on, you will wear only your current apparel, or some other no less decent?"

"Dame Margo!" Giles protested. "Is this really-"

"It is for her own good, Mr Giles." Margo said, not looking away from Harmony. "Respectable men will find her modesty becoming, and the wretch clearly has no other hope of advancement."

Margo might believe that, she was certainly old enough to, but she must know Harmony didn't. She wasn't doing this for Harmony's sake; she was doing it to punish her for insulting Buffy.

It wouldn't work, though. Harmony would have that outfit off three seconds after she left Margo's sight.

Harmony hesitated, a transparent attempt to feign the reluctance Margo would expect, then mumbled, "OK."

"Speak your promise, in full," Margo said.

Harmony sighed. "I promise that from now on I'll never wear anything less decent than this in public."

"Then you may go," Margo said.

Harmony turned to leave.

"Stop, wretch!" Margo snapped, her voice the very essence of command.

Harmony stopped, absolutely still.

"Face me," Margo ordered, her gaze now back to its full-

Cordelia stopped herself midthought. Margo had been turning that look on and off to order, too smoothly for it not to be under full conscious control. This was not Margo's full fury, just a carefully calibrated act.

Quite what the real thing would look like, Cordelia wasn't certain she wanted to know, not firsthand anyway.

She definitely wasn't going to lie down and let Margo trample all over her, but the lady was going to need extremely delicate handling.

Still silent, Harmony looked at Margo.

"You have not the right to turn your back on the slayer, wretch." Margo said. "You will kneel."

Unable to resist, Harmony knelt.

"Now crawl, wretch," Margo said. "Crawl backwards, until you are gone from our sight, and then let Agatha search you."

Cordelia frowned, troubled. Harmony's recent insults had certainly needed punishing, but they didn't quite merit this kind of treatment. 

Besides, Harmony wasn't Margo's to punish. Only Cordelia had that right, a privilege earned by all the time she spent giving Harmony good advice.

Harmony started crawling backwards, moving just slowly enough not to tear off the cardboard.

Margo looked up at Buffy. "That is how the unworthy should treat you, how they would treat you were your watcher one of my party."

Buffy said nothing, but looked distinctly unimpressed by the possibility.

Giles waited until Harmony and Agatha had gone, then looked at Xander. "Now I understand the seventeenth charge of Dame Margo's impeachment proceedings."

"Those charges were all dropped, Mr Giles," Margo said, only the faintest hint of steel in her voice.

Cordelia mentally nodded. Giles was getting a lot more leeway from Margo than Harmony had, probably because she had more respect for him, but he'd said this whole ceremony was about proving Cordelia and the others worthy of respect. Given how seriously Margo was taking it, going through with the ceremony might actually force her to be gentle with them too.

Giles nodded. "They were dropped, Dame Margo, after you agreed to resign your position as head of the council."

Margo shrugged. "Back to your places. You may resume your song, Mr Giles."


	12. Cordelia's Ghost: Life with the Dame

"Against the demon's wrath they stood, as only true-born heroes could," Giles sang. "Against darkness, they pitted light, and the demon fled, afraid to fight."

That had to be the end of the song, nothing hellmouthy had happened since then —unless Margo counted— so the ceremony must be nearly over, far too soon for Cordelia's liking.

It had given her twenty minutes to think, twenty minutes to prepare herself to face Margo, but twenty minutes was barely enough.

"Such are the deeds of these, the children of the hellmouth," Giles said. "If they are not worthy of the slayer, none are."

"Condignus hastae augustissimae est." Margo said. "Comrades-in-arms, I name these three, banes to the foes of man, guardians to the innocent. To this high company I welcome them, for so long as their light endures. Hail!"

"Hail!" Giles and the Bodsworths shouted, then bowed low to Cordelia, and the others. "Hail! Hail!"

Cordelia smiled, enjoying the well-earned praise. Giles had never treated her like this. He'd just taken her invaluable help for granted, never giving her the recognition she deserved, not until Margo forced him.

Well, Giles was wrong.

Not completely wrong, of course. The Latin and the unflattering clothes really were pointless, but those were only superficial details.

At its heart, this ceremony was about recognising how heroic Cordelia and the others were, and that could never be a waste of time, whatever Giles thought. Surely they could manage an afternoon a month to celebrate their achievements, even with all the hellmouth weirdness.

Cordelia smiled broadly, imagining Xander, Giles, Buffy, and Willow taking turns to congratulate her selfless bravery, then hurriedly jerked her thoughts back to the present. This was not a good time for daydreams, however pleasant.

OK, this once, Margo was half-right, but that wouldn't help her.

Cordelia knew how to resist flattery, how to savour the bait yet escape the trap. Margo would not be able to sweet-talk her into surrender, not even with her unfair advantages.

Margo looked up at Buffy. "You may go now, hasta augustissima."

"The ceremony's over?"

"Yes, hasta augustissima."

"At last." Buffy said, smiling broadly, then looked at the clock. "Too late for class, we can-"

"Mr Giles's acolytes shall be stay here, hasta augustissima. We have much to discuss."

Cordelia hesitated, then decided she could tolerate Margo's demeaning description. It would be difficult enough to force Margo to back down on the important issues without fritter away her energies on endless minor disputes first.

"We do?" Willow muttered as Buffy said, "Without me? And don't keep calling me Augustissisti"

Margo nodded. "The slayer should not weary herself with the tedium of research, nor taint her purity by the study of darkness."

"You mean I can skip all the boring bits?" Buffy asked. "Giles never lets me do that."

A typically self-serving remark. Buffy often got out of research duty by claiming she needed to train or go patrolling.

Buffy looked apologetically at Giles. "I don't mind though, honestly."

"Thus is the extent of your pernicious influence revealed, Master Giles," Margo said.

"I see no need to apologise, Dame Margo," Giles replied, "for arming the slayer with knowledge, the most deadly of weapons. It was through her research that the virgin-thief was slain."

"Mr Giles," Margo said scornfully. "My Helga would have needed no such assistance. She could have slain that puny creature bare-handed and blindfolded."

Giles smiled. "I am sure Buffy is pleased that was not necessary, thanks to my policies."

Buffy nodded, then scowled at Margo. "Anything that makes slaying easier is good."

"So might a man say of a crutch," Margo said, "until he discovers himself unable to walk without it."

"If you understand that simple truth, Dame Margo," Giles said, "why would you see such excesses lavished upon the slayer?"

"Dare you suggest, Mr Giles, that my Helga, the greatest slayer for two centuries, was weakened by my support?"

"Dame Margo, I am confident my Buffy will soon surpass your Helga, without needing three chefs in her entourage."

Cordelia nodded. A few professional hair stylists and beauticians would be much more useful to Buffy than some chefs; none of them would be any help with the slaying, but looking good would help Buffy's morale.

"Have school lunches improved since my day, Mr Giles?"

Xander smiled. "They're still serving your leftovers, um, dame."

Margo looked at him. "Potatoes hard as billiard balls and custard like glue, Mr Alexander?"

Xander nodded.

"Just like my old school," Margo said, then smiled. "We used to stick our crockery to the ceiling with the custard, then bet on how many potatoes it would take to knock it off.

That was obviously meant as an endearing anecdote, but Cordelia was not so easily fooled. Every word Margo said was carefully chosen; none should be taken at face value.

Margo looked back at Giles. "The slayer should not have to eat such offal, Mr Giles, nor shall she while I am here."

Giles looked at the Bodsworths. "Which of you is the chef?"

"Neither, Mr Giles," Margo said. "She will dine at Le Jardin Noir."

The third most expensive restaurant in Sunnydale and, according to Cordelia's dad, the one with the best chef. Margo definitely had good taste, and good sources.

Margo looked at Buffy. "You shall eat as a slayer should; the richest meats, the choicest fruits, the finest wines."

Not an easy offer to turn down. A refusal would just make Buffy look ungrateful, giving Margo the moral high ground, but acceptance would set an undesirable precedent.

Hopefully, Buffy would not make the obvious riposte.

"I eat what my friends eat." Buffy said flatly.

Margo smiled. "I have already booked them a private room for all our meals. I am confident they'll enjoy their reward."

Xander looked pleased, hardly surprising considering the calibre of his normal diet, but Willow frowned. "Um, Dame Margo, we're all too young to drink."

"Nonsense, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "Our cause is eternal; those laws, ephemeral. They mean nothing to us. We cannot constantly be trimming our sails in blind obedience to the whims of the mob. We must steer a steady course through treacherous seas, with the great moral truths as our guiding light."

Easy for Margo to say; no court would dare convict her. Cordelia wouldn't be able to muster enough hauteur to get away with that attitude for a few years yet.

"Dame Margo," Giles said, "I am not entirely convinced that breaking those laws would serve any higher purpose."

"Mr Giles, have not these three taken on duties most adults would shirk?"

Giles could only nod.

"Then, Mr Giles, we are obliged to treat them as adults. To do less would be to demean them. Is that your desire?"

Flawed logic that, but if Giles tried to take advantage of the holes in Margo's argument he'd end up looking like a rule-obsessed pedant determined to stop Cordelia and the others having any fun, not a good move.

"I had not previously considered the matter in that light, Dame Margo," Giles said, neatly abandoning a failed attack without conceding an inch.

Margo looked at Buffy. "Agatha will escort you to Le Jardin Noir."

Buffy scowled. "You can't make me go anywhere. I will eat lunch with my friends."

"So, Mr Giles," Margo said, "you have failed to teach your slayer how to accept good advice."

Giles winced, then looked pleadingly at Buffy.

Buffy hesitated, then smiled brightly. "Let's all go."

"We shall all eat there this evening, hasta augustissima," Margo said. "And on many other occasions, but not this time. I refuse to burden your pure soul with my dolorous counsel."

"If bad things are coming, I need to know about them." Buffy insisted.

"My Helga didn't. Armed only with the sacred weapons and a pure soul she slew demons more terrible than any you have yet slain."

Not quite as impressive as it sounded, since two of the big demons Buffy had fought had run away and the third killed itself. That only left the fog dogs but Buffy had killed one of those without forewarning so she couldn't be that much worse than Helga had been, if at all.

"I need to know." Buffy repeated.

"I have already rebutted that claim," Margo said. "I should not need to do so again, not if you have been properly taught."

"Dame Margo," Cordelia quickly said, before Buffy could get Giles deeper in trouble, "What about us? Le Jardin Noir does not deliver."

"Mistress Cordelia, ubi pecunia dicit quisque audit."

Cordelia thought quickly, trying to work out what Margo had just said. An audit was a financial checkup and pecuniary had something to do with finance so, if those words had come from Latin, Margo must have said something about money, which did make sense in context.

"You bribed them, dame?" Cordelia guessed.

Besides her, Willow nodded in agreement.

"Mistress Cordelia, to be bribery it would have to be in pursuit of immoral ends."

Margo looked back at Buffy. "Are you ready to accept my generosity, hasta augustissima, or do you wish to continue with this unbecoming display of petulance?"

Buffy looked at Giles, who shook his head, then sighed. "OK, I'll go, but I won't enjoy it."

Cordelia smiled sympathetically as Buffy trudged to the library doors, where the Bodsworths bowed.

Margo waited until Agatha had led Buffy away, then smiled. "Since you three are not accustomed to dressing properly, I will not insist on any sartorial standards for these meetings."

Margo waited a moment, then frowned. "I see your manners are less than polished."

"Thank you?" Willow said hesitantly.

"Better," Margo said. "You have five minutes to get changed. Go."

* * *

Hearing Mr Bodsworth step behind her, Cordelia leaned sideways so he could reach in and take her soup dish away.

"Mr Giles," Margo said. "The board believes that this 'ooze demon' is the same demon as assaulted a fishing boat four hours later, slightly to the west of Easter Island. Their description was incoherent, but the essentials appear to match."

"That's about three thousand miles," Willow said, then passed her dish to Mr Bodsworth.

Xander smiled. "I guess Buffy really scared it."

"Or there's something there the demon wants." Cordelia said. "There are lots of weird statues there. Some of them might be evil."

"Some of them are," Margo said. "But Easter Island was not the demon's target. Radar traces indicate it continued due south from there."

Giles frowned. "Those cities were never cleansed."

"What cities?" Willow asked.

"The demon cities of Antarctica," Margo said. "They are sealed deep beneath the ice, and guarded by agents of the Board. The demon should not be able to penetrate them."

"The council is in disarray, Dame Margo," Giles said. "We won't be able to keep that demon out."

"Other agents of the Board, Mr Giles."

"The demons had cities?" Willow said. "Um, dame?"

"Haven't you told them anything, Mr Giles?"

"I told them what they needed to know, Dame Margo, in accordance with council policy."

"Mr Giles, once they had proved their worth in battle you should have told them somewhat more."

Giles looked faintly disapproving, but said nothing.

"The old ones did have cities once," Margo said. "They had a high civilisation, perhaps more advanced than our own. Then the First came, and the old ones fell, becoming demons. Civilisation crumbled into barbarism and worse, an Hobbsian war omnis contra omnem that raged for unnumbered millennia, until at last this very universe rejected their corrupted souls, with the encouragement of the precursors of the Board, banishing the demons into the outer dimensions."

"Can't you do that again? Get rid of all these demons?" Willow asked.

"No," Margo said, frowning faintly. "The demons have taken countermeasures, or else there would be none present. Now, their civilisation did not fall overnight. Its twilight lasted perhaps a thousand years, during which the once great cities became citadels of evil, their armouries brimming with weapons forged of the blackest magics, their libraries filled with the honeyed words of the First."

"When the demons fell, we cleansed those cities, before the evils they contained could corrupt mankind, but there were some cities we could not reach."

"The ones in Antarctica, dame?" Willow guessed.

"Indeed," Margo said. "During the twilight years the nascent demons turned the energies that had once held back the ice on each other. Blinded by …"

Hearing a clatter behind her Cordelia covertly angled one of her knives until she could see a reflection. Turning round would not have been a good idea, not after what had happened when Xander had yawned, but she needed to know what was happening.

Mr Bodsworth had just left six plates on the library counter, next to a bottle of white wine, and was now hurrying back to the door.

Should she drink the wine? Getting drunk would leave her vulnerable to verbal trickery from Margo and spoil her image with everyone else but one drink wouldn't hurt and it might help impress Giles and Margo with her maturity.

Mr Bodsworth backed into the library, then turned round, revealing he was carrying a large covered tray.

" for several months," Margo said.

Mr Bodsworth started putting the plates on the table, starting with Margo.

"What are we having now?" Xander asked, looking curiously at the library counter — easy for him to do, since he was sat opposite Cordelia.

"Salmon, Master Alexander," Margo said. "The second course is always fish."

"Second course, dame?" Cordelia asked, spotting the implication. "How many are we having?"

"Four main courses," Margo said. "Soup, fish, meat, and dessert, followed by coffee and biscuits, to round the meal off."

"To round us off," Willow muttered, looking down at her cutlery. "Um, dame? You said something about all our meals. Are they all going to be like this? The amount that is, not the quality."

"Yes, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "Why, is there some problem?"

Cordelia's family dietician would certainly think so. The soup alone, though irresistibly delicious, had been more than Cordelia would normally have eaten in an entire day.

Cordelia looked toward Margo, being careful to avoid meeting her gaze head on. "Dame Margo, we don't want to eat all that."

Margo frowned with faint annoyance, and Cordelia shuddered in anticipation.

"How long has Mistress Cordelia had this problem, Mr Giles?" Margo asked.

"What problem, Dame Margo?"

"A poor appetite is a sure sign of poor health, Mr Giles."

Mr Bodsworth passed Willow her plate, then went back to the counter.

Giles smiled. "Dame Margo, these girls are simply concerned about their weight."

"Poor mental health then, Mr Giles." Margo said. "Neither of these women should have any reason to worry given the amount of exercise they get, or have you fallen short of your duty?"

Cordelia silently fumed. Treating Margo the way she deserved for that slur would be suicidal, but she could not let it pass unchallenged. She had say something, if only she could think of something safe.

Giles nervously adjusted his glasses. "Yes, well, standards are not what they were, Dame Margo. Now that we've finished reviewing the events of recent weeks perhaps we should discuss your mission here."

Icy politeness should work. Margo used it herself, so she couldn't object to it on principle, and it should keep the stakes low while getting Cordelia's message across.

Xander looked at Willow, at Cordelia, back at Willow, then opened his mouth, probably to make some tension-breaking joke.

"Dame Margo fforbes-Hamilton," Cordelia said, before Xander could spoil the moment, "Would you care to clarify your last remark?"

"With respect, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, in a tone of voice normally reserved for disobedient pets, "I would have thought my meaning clear, even to those somewhat lacking in mental capacity. Due to the demands of the training Giles is putting you through, you should have no problem remaining girlishly slim whilst eating like this at every meal. Indeed, to eat much less might well prove less than healthy."

Giles blanched.

"What training?" Willow asked, and Giles groaned.

Cordelia absent-mindedly leaned sideways, so Mr Bodsworth could serve her salmon.

Giles clearly didn't want to answer that question, which must be why Margo had provoked Willow into asking it, simultaneously giving Margo a chance to reinforce her authority and to prevent Cordelia from responding to that last insult. Anything Cordelia said now would easily be dismissed as unimportant, compared with Giles's alleged misdemeanour. Margo had got away with her intolerable arrogance, again.

"The training the Board asked Mr Giles to give you." Margo said, then looked at him. "You have followed our advice, I presume."

Giles hesitated, then clutched his throat, his eyes opening wide.

Margo waited a few moments, then smiled. "Mr Giles, when you stop trying to lie, you will be able to speak."

"W-what?" Giles stammered. "How?"

"One of the incidental fruits of my alchemical studies, Mr Giles," Margo said. "I can neither lie, nor be lied to."

But there were many ways to deceive, without actually lying, and Margo would know them all, giving her an enormous advantage against anyone not accustomed to speaking under that constraint.

Fortunately, since Cordelia was scrupulously honest but had been compelled to deceive by the wish, she had some experience at bending the truth, enough to spot Margo's evasions.

"Now, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Would you care to give me an honest answer?"

"I fully intend to follow them, Dame Margo," Giles said, "at the appropriate time."

"The appropriate time, Mr Giles, was three weeks ago."

"With respect, Dame Margo, I am forbidden from substituting your judgement for my own. I must give it all due regard, of course, but the final decision as to how best to do my duty must be mine alone."

That didn't sound good. Giles hadn't even attempted to defend his actions, appealing instead to a watcher rule Margo had already broken, in all but name. Calling her orders advice did not make it advice, especially not when her followers were willing to kill any who disobeyed.

Either Giles thought his actions indefensible, unlikely, or he didn't want to admit his real motives.

"With respect, Mr Giles, that provision is intended to prevent corrupted watchers from exploiting the loyalty of their subordinates, not to enable lazy watchers to evade their duties."

"With respect, Dame Margo, I am not lazy. I am simply doing what I think best for these three."

"With respect, Mr Giles, you should be helping equip them to do as they think best."

"Giles," Willow said hesitantly. "Are you talking about the occult training you mentioned the other week, after those phone interviews? It's the only training you've mentioned for us, that I remember, but that wouldn't keep us slim, unless you teach us cosmetic spells, but why would you do that?"

"Mistress Willow," Margo said. "We quite strongly advised Mr Giles to teach you three the rudiments not just of occult lore, but also of self-defence."

"You wanted us to learn kung-fu?" Xander said smiling. "Why didn't you do that, Giles?"

That explained why Giles didn't want to defend his actions. If he did, Xander would be tempted to take Margo's side, giving Margo another victory, and Giles would still be in trouble for disobeying orders.

"Xander," Giles said, "how to teach non-slayers was not part of my training. I would not be able to devise a suitable course overnight."

That couldn't be the real reason or Giles would have mentioned the self-defence at the same time as the occult training, but the false implication should be enough to keep Xander happy, provided he didn't get too long to think about it.

Presumably Giles did have some good reason for not wanting to teach self-defence, since he hadn't done it in the original history either, but now was not a good time to find out why. Maybe later.

"What would this training involve?" Cordelia quickly asked, hoping to divert the conversation into territory less uncomfortable for Giles.

"The first lesson, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "will be in running away."

Xander stared at Margo, "That's, that's -"

"Not quite what you were expecting, Mr Alexander?" Margo suggested. "Our experiences that you will be spending most of your time either hurrying to fetch the slayer, racing to stop a dark ritual or trying to lure a demon away from innocents."

"But it's not just running?" Xander persisted. "Dame?"

"No," Margo said. "Running will also improve your general fitness. Once your speed and stamina are sufficient, Mr Giles will begin the second lesson, unless he, like Travers, wishes to place himself in a position of deep disfavour with the Board."

"That will not be necessary, Dame Margo," Giles said hastily, conceding another defeat.

"You will find a suitable manual for the training amongst the books the Board provided, Mr Giles," Margo added, removing Giles's last excuse for delay.

"What's sufficient?" Willow asked warily, then shuffled sideways so Mr Bodsworth could serve her.

"A hundred yards in twelve seconds for speed, Mistress Willow, a mile in six minutes for stamina. You should only rarely have to run more than four miles at one time."

"I can't do that." Willow gasped.

"You three are in your prime," Margo said. "Unscarred by age. You should have no trouble meeting that standard if you eat properly, unless you are somewhat lazy."

Margo was probably right about that, and being able to run for help faster certainly would be useful. Arguing with Margo on this topic would just make her look good.

Cordelia smiled brightly. "Now that's decided, what shall we talk about next?"

Mr Bodsworth sat back down in his chair, directly opposite Margo.

"Dame Margo," he said, "has generously chosen to share her wisdom with you."

Margo nodded, then passed the salt left, to Giles. "I will answer any remaining questions you might have about recent events, or about occult generalities."

"Dame?" Willow began, then Xander interrupted her.

"Dame," he said, "people keep saying things about bells and laughter and me. The blood demon did, and the witch, and you said something about laughing bells. What's it all mean?"

"Aah," Margo said slowly, "Are you sure you wouldn't like to ask a slightly easier question, what song the sirens sang perhaps?"

"No, dame." Xander said flatly.

"It would be easier to nail down water," Margo said. "The cliff stands firm against the rising sea, and the laughter in the trees is the pealing of bells upon the heights, except when it is otherwise. The cliff crumbles before the advancing sea, and the laughter of the waves is the tolling of bells drowned in the deep, except when it is otherwise. Fey are those who have heard the silent bells, those whose feet know the dance of the dog, and no web binds them, except when it is otherwise."

Margo paused, looking at Xander's uncomprehending face. "That is the most lucid answer I can give you without lying. Now, does anyone have a simpler question? One I can answer without riddles?"

Cordelia frowned thoughtfully as she swallowed a piece of tomato. If that was the clearest answer Margo could give Xander was definitely involved in something really weird, something that would need investigating.

Willow looked thoughtfully at Xander, then shrugged. "Dame," she asked, "why did"

* * *

"Very well, Dame Margo," Giles said thirty minutes later, "but what are you going to do in Sunnydale?"

Cordelia sliced herself another piece off her T-bone steak, a bit large but mouthwateringly good, then looked curiously at Margo. Presumably she wasn't here just to cause trouble, but anything she felt needed her personal attention would have to be big. People like her didn't leave their offices and get their hands dirty unless there was no one else who could do the job.

"In the medium term, Mr Giles," Margo said, "the board has decided we need to depopulate Sunnydale. Once the town is gone the hellmouth will be unable to sustain a significant demonic population and the deathgate will have no new dead to empower. After that's done the site will no longer need a slayer's presence; a team of watchers will be sufficient."

"You can't do that," Willow said. "If all the hellmouth weirdness hasn't driven people away, nothing will. They wouldn't leave unless you killed them, um, that is the people you kill wouldn't leave, they'd either stay in their graves or enjoy the deathgate ambience; it would be their friends that would leave if you did that, but you don't kill people, do you, dame?"

"No, Mistress Willow," Margo said, smiling faintly. "Fortunately, there is an alternative method."

Giles put his wine glass down. "Do please enlighten us, Dame Margo."

"My pleasure, Mr Giles," Margo said, her smile as false as Xander's supposed love had been. "People who would not notice a demon at ten inches will spot a rat at one hundred yards."

As Giles frowned disapprovingly, Willow smiled. "Of course!"

"Like the pied piper, backwards." Xander said, then speared a mushroom with his fork. "Won't they just put poison down, dame? A lot easier than moving."

Cordelia nodded. "Property prices are low here, a third what they should be," according to her dad, anyway. "It'll take more than rats to drive people away."

"Rats are just the beginning," Margo said. "The spell I shall cast will summon an unending tide of vermin — rats, mice, ants, fleas, lice, termites, flies, and more — until even the least fastidious leave. Naturally, your houses and persons shall be exempt."

That would be a great comfort, when everyone else was knee deep in bugs. The thought of Harmony scratching at her lice did have some appeal, but Cordelia would have preferred a cleaner solution. Why couldn't Margo simply make everyone want to leave town?

"How long will this take, dame," Willow asked. "You said it was medium term so —"

"A few years, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "The vermin must appear to be a natural phenomenon, or people will strive to ignore them, which forces us to move slowly."

Not an immediate concern then, but it did give her a chance to bring up Parandol without sounding paranoid if she was wrong.

"Does it matter if our houses are only rented, dame?" Cordelia asked, feigning curiosity.

"Not for this spell," Margo said.

"Why?" Willow said, looking askance at Cordelia, just as she had planned. "You own that house, don't you? Or rather, your parents do."

"They got an offer yesterday," Cordelia said. "Someone wants to pay five million for it, then rent it back for just an hundred a month."

"Some people do have more money than sense," Margo said, "but I would suspect ulterior motives."

Xander nodded. "Must be dirty money, drugs or something."

"Were any other households made this offer?" Margo asked.

"Four others, my dad said, all on the same block, dame" Cordelia said, knowing Margo would get the implication.

"On all four sides?" Margo said, checking.

Cordelia nodded.

Margo looked at Giles. "Mr Giles, I suggest you investigate the history of those properties, and of the would-be purchaser."

"I will, Dame Margo." Giles said. "However, I must object to your scheme. It violates the Hepwhite convention."

"I know that, Mr Giles. The Board is not bound by the council's conventions, only by the great oaths and its own decrees."

Giles scowled. "The council will repudiate you for this, Dame Margo. They will impeach the board, as Travers wished."

"The council has broken, Mr Giles. It is no longer capable of such action," Margo said, then hesitated. "In truth, it never was."

"With respect, Dame Margo," Giles said hotly, "esteemed beyond all measure though the board may be, it remains a subcommittee of the council, and subject to its sanctions. It is only the board of directors of the fund for the maintenance of the libraries of the council, after all."

"With respect, Mr Giles," Margo said, steel in her voice, "would that be the advisory council called by the abbots of what is now the West Riding to investigate the reports of ungodly activity, and to recommend countermeasures?"

Giles's silence was answer enough.

"With respect, Mr Giles, you must not confuse the nominal with the real," Margo added. "The official records are an accurate description of the superficialities of the current council's creation. The inner truth is somewhat different, as the words of the 'blood demon' should have made clear."

Very different, if those official names were correct. An organisation founded by monks would not be swearing oaths older than the planet without outside intervention. Some other older group must have taught the early council those oaths; possibly the board, after they'd use a subcommittee to take over, possibly another group, working from the shadows.

Cordelia had heard talk of similar manoeuvres while gracing her dad's parties, backwards takeovers they called them, but they hadn't been secret. Doing that to the early council without it realising must have required a degree of political acumen greater than she had dreamt possible.

Cordelia pulled her thoughts back to the present, and looked at the others. Willow had put down her knife, and was staring thoughtfully at Margo, but Xander appeared to be completely ignoring the conversation.

"It was telling the truth?" Giles gasped. "But it was a demon, Dame Margo. It may have --"

"Mr Giles," Margo said, then hesitated again. "There are secrets in play, which it would unnecessarily endanger these three to hear. I will discuss this matter with you later. Until then, you must assume that neither the Board nor its members will heed the strictures of the council."

"Very well, Dame Margo," Giles said slowly, "but summoning vermin does not require your personal intervention. Why are you here?"

Margo smiled. "To put a gate in the deathgate, Mr Giles. At the moment, it is unwarded. Demons of great power can enter our world at will, provided they are dead."

"Giles put a seal on the morgue, dame." Willow said.

"Fried all the zombies that touched it, dame" Xander added.

"That was commendable of him," Margo said, "but it was only a sticking plaster. By itself, it could hold the soulstorm in for a few months, before being corroded by the presence of the hellmouth. Unfortunately, the new prophecies indicate that Loki will attempt to pass the death gate next week, once he's managed to kill himself. The seals will not be able to hold him."

"The evil Norse god?" Willow said. "Dame, wouldn't that start Ragnarok?"

"It would, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "We can not let him pass."

"So you're going to wall up the deathgate, dame?" Cordelia asked, hoping she'd remembered Giles's metaphors correctly.

"The Board does not have quite that much power, Mistress Cordelia. We can only install a gate across the dimensional breach, and lock it securely. Like the hellmouth, it will be unpassable without appropriate rituals, and far harder to open from the other side than from this, but its necrotic aura will no more be contained by the ward than is the hellmouth's malign aura."

"How?" Giles asked. "How can you hope to bar the path of a god, Dame Margo? No human magic is strong enough."

"Not with human magic alone, Mr Giles, but with a human soul freely sacrificed. That will tap into the most ancient magics, created when the last first came ravening out of the dark, and unleash forces against which no god born of earth can hope to prevail."

For a long moment Giles stared at Margo.

"That", Giles finally said, "is the most audacious plan I have ever heard. It sounds about as easy as redeeming a vampire, but if you think it's possible, Dame Margo, I will back you to the hilt on this one matter. It's not as if I could even begin to offer an alternative."

"It is not unprecedented, Mr Giles. The Board used the same procedure to ward a hellmouth when Stonehenge was young, and there are fragmentary records of earlier uses. Indeed, some of our records suggest that the very hellmouth on which this town stands was thus ward, when the world was young."

"Do you need a volunteer, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

Cordelia tried to discreetly shuffle out of Margo's eye-line. Saving the world was a good thing, but not at the cost of her soul. Mr Bodsworth would be a much more suitable volunteer.

"Not just any soul, Mr Giles," Margo said. "It must be the spellcaster's own, and they must have begun the great work."

Giles took another sip of wine. "You mean your soul, Dame Margo."

She nodded. "I will stand at the centre of the soul storm and kill myself, then transform my naked soul into a gate, separating the quick and the dead, and there I shall remain until the end of time. I expect it will be quite a painful eternity, but the world is worth far more than any one soul. I've lived a fairly long life, and my supporters will continue my work, in the proper manner. That is all the consolation I need."

How could Margo think like that? How could anyone?

Cordelia was prepared to make sacrifices, or she wouldn't be in this library now, but only so she could continue to enjoy life, rather than being killed in an apocalypse, and maybe get some revenge for the way she had been betrayed, both very tangible rewards.

Margo was prepared to sacrifice everything and submit herself to what, allowing for Margo's fondness for understatement, she expected to be an eternity of unbearable agony, all for no more reward than a few pages in the watcher's annals.

It was a magnificent gesture, but pure folly nonetheless. Any sensible person would have persuaded someone else to volunteer.

Cordelia wasn't going to try and stop Margo though; she might succeed. Someone was going to have to sacrifice themselves for the world's sake, but so long as the sacrifice wasn't her, Cordelia didn't much care who it was. Whoever they were, Cordelia would benefit.

Satisfied with her conclusions, Cordelia turned her thoughts to the political consequences. At first glance this sounded like it would be good for Giles; dead, Margo would be unable to punish him for his supposed misdeeds, but she did have followers, followers who would be inspired by Margo's noble self-sacrifice. They would be filled with new fervour, devoted to fulfilling her final commands, and their fury at her enemies would be unquenchable.

Giles would have to be even more careful stay within what Margo considered the bounds of acceptable dissent, or he would become their target.

Xander looked at Margo. "There must be some alternative. There must."

"The library of the Board is to the library of the council as the sea is to a garden pond, Master Alexander, yet it can suggest no alternative."

"You can't be certain, dame," Willow said. "Even if the council's library were only twice the size of this one-"

"It is far larger," Giles said, his eyes dreamy, "Floor upon floor, packed with books from floor to ceiling, shelves that stretch for miles.

"The library of the Board is somewhat larger than London," Mr Bodsworth said.

Willow looked at him, clearly surprised. "Where do you keep them all? Something that size would show up in satellite photos. Even if you buried it underground, there'd be a heat signature."

"A little thought should show you why we should not be expected to answer that question, Mistress Willow," Margo said, almost gently.

Willow nodded. "Anyway, the board's library's catalogue alone must be bigger than the entire council libraries, so big it would take years to find the right catalogue entry —unless you digitise it, which would also take years— and those entries must be several pages long, or they wouldn't be able to distinguish among the thousands of similar books you must have, and that only helps if there is a catalogue entry relevant to your question. No, catalogues wouldn't be enough to find stuff in a library that size. Nothing would be. Computers aren't clever enough, yet; the book you want would be lost in a list of ten thousand others that aren't quite right, and human memory isn't good enough, dame."

"Our librarians say much the same every time their budget is up for review, Mistress Willow," Margo said dryly. "But if nothing better has been found in three thousand years of searching, it is hardly like to be found in the next three days."

"Kill Loki when he comes here, dame," Xander suggested.

"A somewhat daring proposal, Mr Alexander." Margo said. "Perhaps you could find a way to defeat Loki, and all the other gods that would follow after, perhaps, but at what price? What would you have to become, to win those battles? I know only that you would all be changed by such battles, forged anew in a crucible of magic, but whether for good or ill I cannot say. There are possibilities here, set against which the return of the old ones would seem small beer, possibilities I dare not risk."

"I think she means we might become supervillains." Cordelia mouthed to Xander.

Xander nodded, mouthing "Dark Phoenix."

"No," Margo went on. "My duty is clear. I will not demean myself by trying to escape it, nor whine about the unfairness of it all."

Margo paused, and looked at each of them in turn.

"I will do my duty, without thought of wealth or glory, my only regret that I have but one life to give in the service of mankind. I can do no other."

* * *

"—go straight back to England," Xander snapped, as they walked away from the library.

Cordelia looked behind her, checking they were a safe distance from Margo, then nodded. "No one talks to me like that, not in my, um, not to any of us.

"She's spent too long in her lab," Willow added, scowling. "She's forgotten how to talk to normal people."

"She's forgotten what language we speak," Xander said, then looked curiously at Willow. "Did you understand any of her gibberish?"

"It was Latin," Willow said, "I recognised a few words, but I don't know the grammar, and she shouldn't expect us to."

"She shouldn't," Cordelia agreed. "She expects too much."

Willow frowned. "Not too much, precisely. Nothing's too much if it helps Buffy—"

"Of course," Cordelia hastily said, half a second behind Xander's "Nothing at all."

"—but she's too rigid. We can help Buffy in our own way, not her way."

Xander smiled. "You tell her that. You're a genius; you'll be able to make her understand what she's do wrong."

Willow paled, "I don't think anyone's dared make her do anything in decades. She's clever too, and she's had a lot more debate practice than me. You saw what she did to Giles."

Cordelia nodded. By the time Margo announced her real mission, Giles had been so punch-drunk he'd begun making elementary mistakes, leaving himself wide-open to her ripostes.

"And she's supposed to be on his side," Xander said, scowling at the wall.

"I think she thinks its the other way round," Willow said. "She's worse than—"

Willow stopped mid-sentence and looked at the floor.

"We have to make her loosen up," Xander said.

Cordelia stared at Xander a moment, then blinked away the disturbing images. She'd seen quite enough of that when Ethan had tampered with the candy.

"We don't have that long," Cordelia said, paused, then in a quiet voice added, "She hasn't got that long. Um, perhaps we should makes allowances for her. If she's going to save the world I can put up with her rudeness for a few days. It'll keep her followers off Giles's back too."

More importantly, doing that should keep them all safe from Margo's followers, but using that argument now would be premature. Convince Xander and Willow to act sensibly without mentioning personal considerations and not only would she keep them all safe, she'd also gain credit for her high moral stance.

"We can't just watch her die." Xander protested.

"Of course not," Cordelia said. To see Margo die they'd need to be in the middle of the soul storm themselves, one inch from death. "But what can we do?"

"Keep Loki alive," Willow said.

"Willow," Cordelia said gently, "He's on the other side. We should be trying to kill him, not save him."

Willow smiled. "If he's alive he can't pass through the deathgate, and we won't have to fight him. He's supposed to be tied to ... a special tree, and guarded by a giant snake which keeps poisoning him."

"I've heard some of those stories," Cordelia said, then looked at Xander. "The god sees some attractive mortal, turns himself into a giant ant, and seduces them. Save Loki, and he'll probably turn himself into a swan to sleep with us, either that or we'll have to sleep with the snake to save him."

Only a guess, but it should put Xander off.

"I'm not letting Willow do that," Xander immediately said, "or you, Cordy."

"That's Zeus," Willow said. "He's Greek. Loki's Norse."

"He won't turn himself into a animal then?" Xander said.

"I think he did turn into a mare once, but only to, um, seduce a magic horse, and he was the one who got pregnant."

"Not feeling reassured here."

"Anyway," Willow said "it's Odin who'd reward us."

Cordelia smiled. "What does animal does he turn into."

"He doesn't," Willow said. "He's a fighter's god. If he likes you, he kills you before you can get old and feeble, so you can fight for him at Ragnarok, but only if you're really good."

"Like Buffy?" Cordelia asked.

"Yes, but not Buffy herself, he only likes men, for fighting, I mean, not, um, the other thing," Willow said, her face reddening. "Thor was the one who pretended to be a woman, which doesn't mean anything but, um, anyway-"

Willow paused and took a few deep breaths. "Anyway, Odin wouldn't do anything, um, inappropriate. He was a good guy, and married."

"So was Zeus," Cordelia said. "Didn't he once turn into a eagle and kidnap a handsome boy to be his ... special servant?"

Xander scowled. "I'm not liking this plan."

Cordelia nodded. Coping with Margo was hard enough, and she was only human. Dealing with gods would be worse; one false step and zap! Maybe in ten or fifteen years Cordelia would be able to negotiate with gods on even terms, if she stayed involved in the weird stuff, but right now she'd be a little out of her depth.

"It's the only way of keeping her alive," Willow said.

Cordelia smiled. "Let's see what Giles thinks."

* * *

"Anyone want that?" Xander asked, looking at the only piece of cake left in the room.

Cordelia hesitated. It was a tempting sight, two inch-thick slabs of extremely rich chocolate cake bound together with a layer of chocolate syrup then topped with a second layer of the syrup and lavishly decorated with an elaborate design done in soft chocolate icing, but after eating all those other cream buns, fancy pastries, fruit tarts, shortbread biscuits, buttered crumpets, and half a dozen roast beef sandwiches Cordelia was feeling uncomfortably full.

It was all Margo's fault, looking at them that way. Even without words, her message had been quite clear: eat up, or else.

Xander and Giles both went for the cake, then hesitated, looking at each other.

Margo quickly leaned in and snatched it up, then turned round. "Buffy shall eat it."

"No, thanks," Buffy said, "Give it to Giles."

"Mr Giles is not the slayer," Margo said.

"I've had eno—"

Margo quickly broke off a morsel of cake and dropped it in Buffy's mouth.

Buffy swallowed, then pushed Margo's hand away. "I can feed myself."

"After your behaviour this evening, hasta augustissima, I am not entirely convinced of that," Margo said. "Mr Giles may let you dawdle round your patrols, but while I am here you will be expected to meet a higher standard, to do which you will need to be properly fed."

Buffy looked at Giles, who shook his head.

"I had Le Jardin Noir make this cake especially for you," Margo said, "to my own recipe."

Buffy looked straight at Margo, meeting her expectant stare head on, as Cordelia watched, almost afraid to breath.

After a few seconds Buffy shuddered and looked away. "OK, I'll eat it."

Margo calmly placed the cake in Buffy's outstretched hand, as if nothing had happened.

"Mistresses Cordelia and Willow," she said, "you may get changed for the evening now. Agatha will show you where."

Cordelia quickly stood up, picked up her bag, and followed Agatha out of the room, grateful for the chance to get away from Margo, if only for five minutes.

"Here, ladies," Agatha said, opening a door.

Cordelia stepped inside, looking for a mirror.

Willow looked at Agatha "Are you patrolling in that?"

Agatha looked down at her grey outfit, the one she'd been wearing during the ceremony. "This? If I were I would be, but I will not be with you tonight. Dame Margo has assigned my husband and me other duties."

"We can't get changed in here," Cordelia said. "There's no mirror."

No furniture at all, in fact, just a few marks on the floor where a table normally stood. This must be another of the private dining rooms, commandeered by Margo for use as a changing room, but not properly converted.

"You do not need a mirror," Agatha said. "You have each other."

"What about Buffy," Willow asked.

"Dame Margo herself will help the slayer dress," Agatha said, before walking off.

Cordelia looked at Willow. "Buffy will enjoy that."

Willow laughed, then pulled some clothes out of her bag. "Do you think Margo will approve? It's the best I could find, with so little warning."

"She should have told us at dinner," Cordelia said, but Margo hadn't. She'd just waited until half past three, then sent a note round, saying that she would be would be assessing the skills of Cordelia, and the others, during that night's patrol, and 'reminding' them to dress suitably.

"And, since when do we go on routine patrol anyway?" Cordelia added, remembering another grievance. "That's Buffy's job."

"It's probably standard practice for trainee watchers," Willow said, pulling out a pair of low-heeled shoes. "And that's what she's treating us like. Probably the only way she can fit us into her world view. Anyway, what do you think?"

Cordelia looked critically at the clothes Willow was holding up. "They don't match —"

Willow grimaced.

"—they should do," even though they were an appalling mix of dark reds, dark blues, and dull browns. They'd help conceal Willow but not restrict her movements.

"I don't have an enormous wardrobe like you, Cordelia," Willow said.

Cordelia shrugged, then began undoing her dress.

* * *

"... shouldn't expect too much. If she—"

"The slayer comes," Agatha announced from the doorway, interrupting Giles, "with Dame Margo. Stand ready for inspection."

"When did we join the army?" Xander said quietly, looking at Willow.

"You volunteered to help the slayer," Agatha said. "Dame Margo's methods are the best way to do that."

"Not proven," Giles snapped.

"Giles," Cordelia quickly said, before the two watchers could start arguing again, "you getting changed next?"

"Mr Giles does not need to," Margo said as she entered the room. "Watchers have been dressing much like him for a century, without problems."

Buffy entered a step behind, smiling broadly despite the bright yellow and pink striped dress she was wearing, definitely not something Buffy would have chosen for herself.

"Margo's going to change," Buffy said, almost laughing. "You'll love this."

"My security is not a laughing matter," Margo said, her voice cold, and Buffy's smile vanished.

"Of course," Willow said, "You don't want to be recognised by your enemies, dame. Going to wear a mask?"

"No, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "They always fall off at the worst times, and they would not disguise my voice. Stronger measures are required to protect me from the risk of assassination."

Giles smiled. "I imagine there are many people, and demons, who want to kill you, Dame Margo. Perhaps you might like stay here, for safety's sake. Naturally. I will be sure to inform you of everything significant that happens on patrol."

"Mr Giles, that will not be necessary. The Board has a standard protocol for these circumstances, which I am assured will be quite sufficient," Margo said.

Then she changed, clothes and body both.

One moment she was a grey-haired woman, seemingly a few years older than Giles, still wearing the same grey outfit as she had that morning; the next, she looked like a girl in her late teens wearing a blotchy grey duffle-coat, a lock of bright red hair just visible under her hood.

A quick change, achieved without apparent effort. She hadn't needed to chant anything, the way Willow and Catherine had, or to use the candles and chalked patterns Giles had to resort to, she'd just changed herself, as easily as breathing.

Cordelia might have been impressed, if it hadn't been for the one glaring flaw in Margo's new look.

Margo's face now looked like a cartoon, paper white skin, perfect pink circles for cheeks, a straight red line for a mouth, large blue eyes — Cordelia could even see the pencil lines.

Xander hastily put his hand over his mouth, muffling his laughter.

"If one has sufficient willpower, and meets certain other less than stringent requirements, Mr Giles," Margo said, "it is a simple matter to maintain a pan-sensory illusion indefinitely."

"It would appear your willpower is not quite sufficient, Dame Margo," Giles said. "If you can do no better, perhaps you should stay here."

"I could imitate you perfectly if I chose, Mr Giles," Dame Margo said. "But to do so would be a lie."

"And this isn't, dame?" Cordelia said. It certainly wasn't her real appearance, unless England was much stranger place than it looked on television.

More likely, spending all those decades alone in a lab full of weird potions had left Margo a little out of touch with the normal world.

"Of course," Willow said, after a only moments hesitation. "It's like a metaphor. They're not really lies, dame, though they are technically false, because no one takes them literally. You're not saying, 'This is what I really look like,' which would be a lie. It looks like you're saying that's what you look like, but that's so obviously false it doesn't count, anymore than metaphors do —unless there are some really bizarre demons around, and if there were some that looked like that, you'd have chosen a different look. Anyway, what you're actually saying is, 'This isn't what I really look like,' which is true, and doesn't give anything away."

"Mistress Willow is correct," Margo said, "though she would be well advised to learn how to express herself more succinctly. A falsehood is not a lie if it is not intended to deceive."

So everything Margo said wasn't the literal truth. What did that mean for Cordelia?

"Wouldn't it be less conspicious to do Marilyn Monroe, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

Everything Margo said would either be plain truth, a partial truth intended to deceive, or a falsehood she genuinely thought so obvious it couldn't deceive anyone, which meant Margo's twisty logic wouldn't be a problem. Cordelia was too familiar with the use of partial truths to be tricked that way, and if Margo wrongly thought something was obvious the worst that could happen was a few moments confusion.

"Mr Giles," Margo said. "Even if I could be confident no one was so ignorant as to think that actress still lived, in this town the dead walk. Nor need you worry about attracting unwelcome attention. I walked here from the school in this guise, and no one looked twice."

"Do the voice," Buffy said, still smiling.

Margo started speaking gibberish, in a deep male voice.

An effective disguise for her voice, but why had Margo stopped speaking English?

Or had she? The gibberish was beginning to sound familiar, almost meaningful; English, but spoken with such a strong accent it was barely recognisable.

"Dame Margo," Giles said. "Is it really necessary to fake that broad an accent?"

"Midah spock this way, Mr Giles," Margo said, the words getting clearer as Cordelia adjusted to the weird accent. "Everyone near Baahnsli did when I were young. When I go, so will all living memory of my da, and of my childhood pals. I'll not apologise for paying a final tribute to the lot of them."

A nice sentiment, but not very practical. There had to be a better way of doing things, one that would not look, or sound, so ridiculous.

"Most people would just put a flower on the grave," Cordelia said. "Isn't sounding male enough?"

Margo turned to face Cordelia, only the rainbow fires of her eyes visible amidst the deep shadows of her hood, and Cordelia gulped, realising she'd made a minor error of judgement. Underneath that ludicrous disguise, Margo was still the same person as had forced Harmony to her knees by pure strength of personality.

Margo could disguise herself as a cute little kitten, and she would still be the most dangerous person Cordelia had ever met.

"Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, her voice cold as the grave, "If tha's nowt sensible to say tha should say nowt."

Pinned beneath the contemptuous glare of those eyes, Cordelia shuddered. Willow had looked at her that way, in the nightmares, just before she had forced Cordelia to poke out her own eyes with a screwdriver.

"D-dame Margo?" Cordelia forced herself to say. "I was surprised. I didn't mean any harm. Um, perhaps you could tell us about him, so we can remember for you."

Margo glared steadily at Cordelia, apparently unmoved by Cordelia's offer, for several long seconds, then smiled. "He were a carpenter on t'estate; made all my toys himself, and my first stake too, when the council found me. He were so proud, once they explained what I might be."

Margo paused, her eyes misty.

"Dame Margo was a potential slayer once," Mr Bodsworth said quietly, "but the Call passed her by. Thus it is that she knows the needs of a slayer as well as any non-slayer can. Disdain her advice at your peril."

Margo looked back at Cordelia, a warm smile drawn on her cartoon face.

"Tha needs to learn tact, Mistress Cordelia," she said. "But tha could go far, tha knows. Tha's a lot like I were at tha age. Not quite as smart, of course, but that can be remedied, in time, if tha's willing to set aside all pursuit of fripperies and devote thaself to what truly matters. All three of you might."

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Being as powerful as Margo, and as long lived, was tempting, but not at the price Margo had paid. Follow that path and Cordelia would never get to bask in the adulation of the multitudes, the way she deserved; she would have to spend eternity in the shadows, her greatness unrecognised.

No, that path might appeal to watchers, but it was not for Cordelia.

Cordelia smiled. Margo had just treated her as if she were a watcher, only a small mistake, but proof she wasn't perfect — unless she'd done it on purpose to trick Cordelia.

She would have to think about that, later. For now, it would best to switch to a less emotive subject.

"I'll think about it," Cordelia said, smiling at Margo. "Weren't you going to inspect us?"

Margo nodded, her illusion fading. "Line up. Agatha, their weapons."

Agatha picked up a bag from the corner, and began putting weapons on the table; the two fans first, then the trick cane.

"You seem to have forgotten your personal weapons," Margo said. "They were gifts of which I suggest you should take full advantage."

Cordelia picked up her fan, wondering how she could carry a big shiny lump of gold around without attracting unwelcome attention.

"Any of you ever use a crossbow?" Margo asked, as Agatha put the first one on the table. "Apart from Mr Giles."

Cordelia hesitated, then nodded. "Not long after I found out about all this, but we've got Buffy now, dame."

A year after she'd found out, actually, but at Margo's age a year must seem like yesterday.

"I've never used one," Buffy said, looking at Giles as she snatched a crossbow off the table. "Goodbye stakes, hello flying fatality."

"You must first become proficient with the basic tools of combat," Giles said. "The crossbow comes later."

"Mr Giles," Margo said. "If your slayer is not yet ready for the crossbow, either she is slow or your teaching is inadequate. Which is it?"

"Neither, dame," Willow said quickly. "How many slayers still lived with their parents? The council took you away when they thought you might be. How many others? It makes a difference, less time with the watcher."

Not much of a difference, Kendra had been taken from her parents while young, and she had been no better than Buffy, but that was enough of a counter argument to dampen Margo's thrust.

"Excuses," Margo said, then looked at Cordelia.

"Anyway, Mistress Cordelia, you still need to be able to defend yourself. Buffy cannot always stand guard over you." Margo said, passing Cordelia a crossbow and bolt. "If you would care to demonstrate?"

Cordelia looked at the crossbow, reminding herself how it worked. Giles had only given her a quick demonstration, before Buffy returned from her summer sulk, but that should be enough. All she had to do was point it at the enemy and press the trigger. It'd be a lot easier than trying to fight a vampire hand-to-hand, armed with just a fan, and safer too.

"If you would hold a plate at arms length," Margo said, looking at Buffy. "Mistress Cordelia, you may fire when ready."

Buffy looked thoughtfully at Cordelia, then picked up a large plate and stood in the far corner, well away from everyone else.

On her third attempt, Cordelia managed to crank the bow back fully, then slotted the bolt into place and pointed it at the plate, her arm wavering only slightly.

Buffy tilted her head sideways, away from the plate.

Cordelia released the safety catch, then pressed the trigger.

Buffy jerked her arm up.

The bolt thunked into the wall, less than an inch below Buffy's wrist.

"There is room for improvement," Margo said, "but you should be able to make some use of a crossbow tonight, without unduly endangering your comrades in arms."

"When do we get one, dame?" Xander said, picking up a crossbow.

Margo rapped his knuckles, making him drop it. "Not tonight, Mr Alexander. I believe Mr Giles will be free next weekend."

"I should be able to give some brief instructions, Dame Margo," Giles conceded.

"As for your outfit," Margo said, looking at Xander's gym clothes, "you may find it somewhat cold tonight."

"You said we'd be running around a lot, dame," Xander said.

"You will need to run every night, not necessarily all night long, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "You may occasionally need to spend half an hour hiding in a bush, without your teeth chattering, an eventuality for which your outfit is less than suitable."

Margo stepped sideways, and looked at Willow. "Adequate, Mistress Willow. You should be able to hide well enough from anything without unnatural vision, but you too may grow cold in the long watches of the night. Next time, wear a wrap."

Sensible advice, if you lived in England, but Sunnydale didn't get that cold at night. Margo was being inflexible again.

Margo stepped sideways again, then leaned forwards, fingering Cordelia's earrings. "A sensible choice of jewellery, Mistress Cordelia. The crosses will provide a measure of protection. However, your colour choice is ill-informed. Monochrome black is more visible in the half-light of an urban night than one might think. Mistress Willow's ensemble better matches the true colour of the shadows, and will break up her outline somewhat. Next time, listen to her advice on your outfit, and do not forget a wrap."

Margo stepped backwards. "There are other shortcomings in your outfits, but not quite enough to render them unsuitable. You may take up your weapons."

Xander picked up his cane and began playing with it.

"Dame?" Willow said hesistantly, "if you agree being able to hide is a good thing, and you seem to, from what you've said, why have you made Buffy wear that dress?"

"Mistress Willow," Margo said, "I did not compel her; I merely gave her good advice."

But Buffy was not strong enough to resist Margo, not yet. Maybe in a few years Buffy would be able to shrug off Margo's so-called advice, but right now her best efforts against Margo only made Buffy look sulky, and at great risk to Giles's life.

Margo might have used nothing more than words, but she had forced Buffy into that dress as surely as if she had done so at gunpoint.

"She says her Helga wore a dress like this," Buffy said, scowling. "She says her Helga caught a lot of vampires with it."

"It does work," Giles said, "but there's no need for that strategy in Sunnydale."

"Mr Giles," Margo said, "your slayer may not always be in Sunnydale. It is better to practice these skills now than when the need is urgent."

"What skills, dame?" Willow asked, "How can you catch anything with a dress?"

"At least two ways, Mistress Willow. The wretch Harmony could tell you of one, but I cannot ask the slayer to sink to such depths."

"No," Buffy said, "you just want me to skip down dark alleys."

"While whistling blithely," Margo said, with the barest hint of a smile. "Do not forget the whistling."

"That works?" Xander said, staring at Margo. "Dame?"

"Mr Alexander, most of our enemies are too consumed by their dark hungers to spot even this obvious a trap. Any more questions?"

"No, dame," Cordelia said, before Willow could speak.

"Then," Margo said, both disguise and accent returning, "let's go give the vamps a neete to remember."

* * *

"Who are they?" Buffy asked five minutes later, looking into the alley. "How do I slay that?"

Twenty yards down the alley, the demon threw one of the vampires against the left-hand wall.

"Tha doesn't need to concern yourself with such matters, hasta augustissima," Margo said, "Simply heed tha slayer's intuition."

Buffy scowled. "My intuition says I need to know more."

"I will not serve you," the top vampire said, lounging against the right-hand wall while its minions fought. "I have only one master. You will serve us, or you will die."

"This weakness in the slayer is tha fault, Mr Giles," Margo said. "My Helga would have slain them all by now."

"You can not hope to kill me," the demon said, tripping a vampire up then stamping on its head. "I am a beloved of the third lord of slaughter, gifted with might beyond your feeble imagining. Your master will crawl at my feet and ..."

"Perhaps, Dame Margo" Giles said. "At her height, but not in her first year. What harm will it do to tell Buffy what you know?"

Cordelia smiled as a vampire grabbed one of the demon's tentacles in both hands, and squeezed, making the demon yelp. Her enemies were killing each other, always a good thing, and, even better, they were so busy doing it that they hadn't noticed they were being watched.

"What harm followed when tha learnt the name of the sleepwalker, Mr Giles?" Margo said.

Giles winced, almost imperceptibly. "This is different, Dame Margo."

"Is it, Mr Giles?" Margo said. "Tha doesn't know from whence the slayer's power truly flows nor what might awake should dark knowledge taint her mind. I do."

"Where does it-" Willow began.

"Buffy," Xander said quickly, interrupting Willow. "Slice and dice. That always works, right, Giles."

"Mostly," Giles said. "Sometimes special measures are required."

"If they were, Mr Giles," Margo said, "I'd do em after Buffy beat the demon up, but there's nowt special about this demon."

"May I remind you, Dame Margo, that this demon claims a blessing from its master."

"It lies," Margo said. "It's all mouth and no trousers. Look at it, Buffy; barely able to hold its own against just six third-rate vampires. Tha's no cause for caution, so stop dawdling, and follow tha calling."

Buffy looked sceptically at Margo. "How many vampires have you killed?"

"I've not fought owt so piddling as vampires for twenty years, Buffy," Margo said, "but I think I lost count somewhere around four score."

Then Margo turned and looked down the alley.

"Hey, you fiends!" Margo shouted, half a yard of steel in her voice. "The slayer's here."

Cordelia quickly stepped backwards.

The combatants all turned and looked towards Cordelia, their fangs gleaming in the dim light.

"What!" Buffy snapped at Margo.

The top vampire pointed to two of its minions. "You, go and kill them all."

"Tha duty was plain," Margo said. "But that made excuses to delay the fight. Such behaviour is unworthy of the slayer. Nor will I tolerate it."

"I wasn't —" Buffy protested.

Margo shoved her in the back, pushing her toward the oncoming vampires. "Go!"

Buffy stumbled down the alley, recovering just in time to block a punch from the first vampire.

"With respect, Dame Margo," Giles said, pale with anger. "I must protest."

"With respect, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Whining is always easier than accepting responsibility for one's own faults."

"You waited too, dame," Cordelia said.

Willow nodded, glaring at Margo, while Xander scowled. "Did you treat your Helga like that?"

"Mr Alexander, my Helga never dawdled," Margo said. "She knew her duty. And as for thee, Mistress Cordelia, I was giving Buffy time enough to recognise her duty without pressure, a most generous gesture."

Buffy staked one vampire, then kicked the second into the wall.

"With respect, Dame Margo," Giles said. "You have no right to interfere with my slayer, unless you have found me derelict in my duty, and neither of us want to see the consequences of that calamity. Need I remind you of our recent, private, discussion?"

"Need I remind thee, Mr Giles," Margo said, "that there are others whose support would be sufficient to avert those consequences. Tha's my first choice, but hardly my only."

So Giles had something Margo wanted. That would strengthen his position, definitely good news.

Buffy staked the second vampire, then turned to face the third.

Giles smiled. "If I am your first choice, none of your followers can be suitable, Dame Margo. Whoever these others are, you will have to put aside your factional loyalties to gain their support, a sacrifice I am sure you are capable of making for the greater good."

"You can't change the way we do things in only a few days, dame," Willow added. "And you expect to be gone by Monday. Don't try to do the impossible; just give us the benefit of your superior experience."

"You can keep giving us free food though, dame," Xander said. "You have got some things right."

"Half right," Cordelia said, give Giles a supportive look.

"Tha logic is flawed, Mr Giles. Nonetheless, I will concede I may not have due allowance for the effects of tha laxness, Mr Giles," Margo said, after a moment's hesitation. "Next time Buffy is unbecoming slow to do her duty, I will let tha prompt her. Tha's my apologies, of course. Would tha like me to do any penance?"

Cordelia hid a frown. If Margo was willing to make that kind of concession, whatever political game she was playing with Giles must be for high stakes; higher still, if Margo's political weakness was fake.

"No," Giles hurriedly said, clearly unwilling to push his luck too far. "If you would just give Buffy all the help you safely can, I'll ask Buffy to forgive you."

Margo smiled, then fired her crossbow, the bolt striking the demon in its third eye.

"It's harmless now, love" Margo shouted to Buffy as the demon collapsed, then fired another bolt at the top vampire.

"Thanks," he shouted back, snatching the bolt from the air and turning it against Buffy.

Margo smiled coldly, and the bolt ignited, forcing the vampire to drop it.

While he was distracted, Buffy slammed his head into the wall, then spun and staked the vampire creeping up behind her.

"We'll need to burn the demon's spleen," Margo said. "The rest should be plain sailing."

"Anything you can tell us about the vampires, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

Buffy staked the last of the minions, then smiled at the top vampire. "Feeling lucky?"

Margo shrugged. "That's Eric the Defiler, Darla's second spawn. He likes to drink blood from young ladies' ... private areas, Mr Giles, especially at that time of the month. We think he fell out with the Master around 1720. They've not been seen together since."

"Then why is he here now, Dame Margo?" Giles said thoughtfully. "The deathgate?"

Cordelia nodded. Either the deathgate itself, or the Master's extra powers.

"The Master will have been enhanced by the deathgate, Mr Giles," Margo said. "He may now be able to summon those of his blood to his service."

Then Spike and Drusilla would be in town soon, just what Cordelia didn't need.

Eric stumbled backwards, and tripped over the demon's corpse.

Buffy jumped on top of him, plunging her stake into his heart, then stood up and looked at Margo.

"You pushed me," Buffy said scowling. "Why didn't you shoot earlier?"

"Dame Margo's not accustomed to our methods," Giles said quickly, his tone placatory. "She has apologised."

Buffy looked at him, then back at Margo. "Don't do that again."

Margo bowed, then smiled. "Any volunteers for the —"

Behind Buffy, Eric pulled out the stake.

"The deathgate?" Willow suggested quietly, and Margo nodded.

As Buffy turned to face him, Eric grabbed her left ankle and yanked it sideways.

"The deathgate, love," Margo agreed. "The older vampires will no longer die so easily."

Buffy staggered a few steps, then tripped over the corpse.

Eric ran.

Margo sighed. "Can't chase him now. We've got a demon to dispose of. Any volunteers for the spleen removal?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Cordelia stepped out of the alley and turned left, following Margo and Buffy.

"Cordelia?" Harmony shouted. "That you with those freaks?"

Cordelia looked across the road.

Harmony was standing there, with two of the other girls.

"They're not freaks," Cordelia shouted back, a quick denial that should score points with Xander and the others.

Harmony said something to the other girls, then crossed the road.

"What's she want?" Willow muttered.

"Get rid of the wretch, Mistress Cordelia," Margo added, Buffy nodding agreement.

"Feeling cold?" Cordelia said, looking at Harmony's full-length coat. With the collar turned up like that, and a pair of gloves on, she looked ready for a snow storm.

Harmony scowled. "You do remember the mad old woman in the library? What she made me promise? I can't dress normally when she might see me."

"She's not mad," Cordelia said quickly, conscious of Margo standing just behind her.

Harmony glanced at the rest of Cordelia's group, then smiled. "Who's the 'toon? Another of your freak friends?"

"Good evening, wretch," Margo said, steel in her voice.

Harmony shuddered, then forced a smile. "Can't it even speak English?"

What did—

Then Cordelia remembered. Of course Harmony wouldn't understand. She hadn't had a chance to get used to the accent yet.

"That was English," Giles said. "Yorkshire English."

Xander smiled. "She said, 'Good evening, wretch.' I think she meant you."

As realisation dawned, Harmony blanched and step back three paces. "Her?"

"Yes, wretch," Margo. "Me."

Trembling, Harmony took another step back.

"You wanted something?" Cordelia said offhandedly, before Harmony could recover.

"Um, yes," Harmony said, her voice weak. "People have noticed you're hanging with a ... different crowd. They're wondering if you've lost it."

Not good news that, but easily fixed.

"Mistress Cordelia has lost nothing of value, wretch," Margo said. "She's found a purpose."

"You're fah-ound ap puss?" Harmony echoed, looking puzzled. "Um, well, I knew you wouldn't like them saying that, so I though I'd give you a chance to convince them."

"Yes?" Cordelia said, carefully pitching her voice menacingly low.

"We're all meeting up at your house, Saturday night," Harmony said quickly.

If she dropped the Scoobies for that, it'd hurt her standing with them, but not going would strengthen the rumours. Either way she lost, or so Harmony thought. Cordelia was not so easily trapped.

For now, best to let Harmony stew in anticipation.

"You may go now," Cordelia said, like a teacher dismissing an unruly child.

Harmony hesitated, looking at Margo, then scurried back across the street.

* * *

Buffy staked the vampire, then watched it crumble to dust.

"Competently done," Margo said, then glanced at the alleys surrounding them.

"Competent, Dame Margo?" Giles said. "What shortfall are you alleging now?"

"Fighting too cleanly, Mr Giles." Margo said, then pointed left. "That way."

"Wait," Xander gasped. "Willow needs more time, dame."

Cordelia looked at Willow, still leaning wearily against the wall, and nodded. They'd spent the last hour running from one fight to the next, with little chance to catch their breath, a level of exercise neither Xander nor Willow were accustomed to.

Cordelia was doing better than those two, thanks to her cheerleader training, but she was still growing tired.

"Five minutes, dame," Cordelia said. "We're not used to this."

"They should be, Mr Giles," Margo said. "They would be, if tha'd listened to our advice."

"Normally, Dame Margo," Giles said, "we do not run from fight to fight."

"You dawdle, Mr Giles?" Margo said.

"Normally, Dame Margo, we do not meet quite so many vampires and demons in one night. When they are relatively infrequent, it makes more sense to walk."

"Unless tha knows where they are, Mr Giles, and Buffy should."

"How?" Buffy asked, scowling at Margo.

"Tha's the slayer, love," Margo said. "Tha should be able to feel the unnatural aura of the undead."

"Buffy's gifts lie in other areas, Dame Margo" Giles said quickly, then looked thoughtfully at her. "How are you finding them so quickly?"

"A simple enhancement to my sensorium, Mr Giles," Margo said, "one of my essays in the great work."

"Dream made flesh," Willow said quietly. "Alchemy isn't just about eternal youth, is it, dame? It's about remaking yourself, in both body and mind, the ultimate self-improvement program, and if you can do that—"

Willow paused, her face caught between surprise and awe. "—you can make yourself smarter. You have, haven't you?"

"Indeed I have, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "The first step in the great work should always be to make thaself clever enough to take the second step."

Cordelia frowned. If Margo's mind was pumped up on mental steroids no normal person would be able to outwit her, unless they had a few aces up their sleeve. Any time Margo appeared to lose was almost certainly part of some labyrinthine plot, beyond normal human comprehension.

Fortunately, Cordelia did have a few aces up her sleeve.

Willow looked greedily at Margo. "How? Tell me how. I have to know. I have to. I have to."

Buffy sighed, then muttered something to Xander.

"Spend thirty years studying the unique contours of tha own mind, the mysteries of the soul, and the secrets of the lower arcanum," Margo said, "and tha might be ready to take that first step, but be warned. Most who attempt it succeed only in destroying their own minds, becoming, at best, drooling imbeciles."

Willow did not look deterred.

"You don't need that," Xander said, lightly patting Willow's arm. "You're already our genius."

"But if you succeed ..." Giles said, then started polishing his glasses. "There is no spell in the council's archives that can grant deathsight for more than five minutes, and that at ruinous cost, yet to you, Dame Margo, it comes as easily as breathing. To be able to do that ... Some risks are worth taking."

"Not just deathsight, Mr Giles," Margo said, "the full spectrum of othersight, and at a price paid in a coinage tha knows nowt of. Tha only knows of the magics of the lower arcanum, but alchemy is of the higher. No lesser magics can safely ma—"

Mid-word, Margo stopped.

"Dame Margo?" Giles said.

Margo smiled. "Under normal circumstances, Mr Giles, useful deathsight is beyond the scope of the lower arcanum, but circumstances are not normal, and the scope of the lower arcanum is ... wider. Buffy, there's a vampire forty yards down that alley. Could you bring it here? I'll need its blood."

Buffy looked at Giles, then ran down the side-alley Margo had just pointed out.

"This spell will show you much," Margo said, looking at the four of them. "You'll find it an educational experience."

"You're giving us super vision, dame?" Xander asked. "What kind? X-ray? Heat vision?"

"Deathsight," Giles said. "It's the ability to sense undeath, and the necrotic energies that sustain it. Some slayers have it, to a small extent."

Giles paused as the sound of fighting came from the side-alley, then looked at Margo. "And you can give us this, Dame Margo? Without the duration problems or the ... unfortunate side-effects?"

"I can, Mr Giles," Margo said, "for a limited time, and tha deathsight will not as good as mine. Even with the power of a deathgate behind it, the scope of the lower arcanum is still limited."

"Can't you use the higher arcanum, dame?" Willow asked. "Like you did on yourself."

"The power to do that is the power to reshape tha mind like clay, love," Margo said. "I will not foul myself with such magics. Anyroad, sticking to the lower arcanum means this spell is simple enough for Mr Giles to master."

"It is?" Giles said, staring at Margo. "Dame Margo, that's, that's ..."

"Are you sure it's safe, dame?" Cordelia interrupted, remembering some past incidents. Margo hadn't actually said there'd be no side effects.

"Safe enough, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said.

Xander looked at Cordelia. "That means no, right?"

"The spell does use vampire blood," Margo said, as if that meant something. "There's a small chance that it could vamp thee."

"How small a chance?" Cordelia said carefully, wondering what Margo considered an acceptable level of risk.

"Don't worry, love," Margo said. "If owt goes wrong tonight, I'll destroy the demon before it can get tha body. Tha might get a little headache, but nowt worse."

"I can't do that, Dame Margo," Giles said, as Buffy dragged a vampire round the corner.

"If they have the Mikhelite cleansing before and after each casting, and tha doesn't use it more than once a month, it'll be safe enough."

A desperation tactic, then.

"Dame," Buffy said, "I can't hold her much longer."

"Fiend —" Margo said, her voice the thunderous roar of a charging army.

Cordelia covered her ears and backed away. There were trumpets in that voice, and the rattle of swords being drawn, but mostly there were ten thousand knights riding across a battlefield, a force as unstoppable as the tides.

Margo really had been holding back against Harmony, just as Cordelia had suspected.

Cordelia swallowed nervously, reminded again just how dangerous Margo really was.

"—be still," Margo said. "Be silent."

The vampire went completely still, its face a rictus of terror.

"Now," Margo said, her voice friendly again. "We can begin the spell. Watch carefully, Mr Giles."

Margo nudged a jewel on her fan, exposing the blade, then grabbed the vampire's left hand.

Willow winced, and looked away.

Margo raised her fan to shoulder height, then swung it down fast, slicing off the vampire's hand.

The vampire didn't even dare wince.

Margo carefully passed her fan to Buffy, then held her left hand under the vampire's wrist, letting its blood pool in her outstretched palm.

After a few seconds she stepped away. "I'll need tha blood too, Buffy. Cut us a finger, would you?"

"Go on," Giles said, when Buffy looked at him.

Wincing, Buffy carefully cut a finger with Margo's fan, then squeezed out a few drops of blood.

Margo looked down at the blood. "Sanguis viviae et mortui, calice hoc carnis meae nunc miscete!"

The blood swirled in her palm.

"Tenebrae, mea! Te ministerio hominis dedico."

The blood shimmered, and Margo smiled triumphantly.

"Dum haec nox durabit, visum donanto mortuorum qui ambulant."

The blood started glowing pink.

"All close your eyes," Margo said. "I'm going to draw the rune of sight on your foreheads, Mr Giles."

Cordelia briefly hesitated, then closed her eyes.

After a few moments, something wet touched her forehead, leaving her eyes tingling.

"Open your eyes," Margo said, a few moments later.

Cordelia opened them, then blinked, trying to make sense of what she now saw.

"Put tha human face on, fiend," Margo told the vampire.

It did, but under that face Cordelia could still see the vampire's true face, shimmering as though seen through water. From that face a pulsing black column ran down the vampire's neck, feeding into a dark whirlpool where its heart should have been.

"They all look like that?" Xander asked.

"Pretty much, love," Margo said. "Tha'd have no trouble finding the heart now. Kill it, Buffy."

Buffy stuck the stake into its heart, into the centre of the whirlpool, and the vampire dusted, its undead energies melting away.

Behind the wall, something moved.

Cordelia squinted then, realising this must be deathsight not eyesight, relaxed and waited for it to come into focus.

A dozen dark whirlpools and something else, a twisted knot of dark energies wrapped round a single floating eye. Beyond them, more dark shapes moved; smaller, so probably further away — unless they really were small.

Twelve vampires and a demon then, hidden not far behind that wall, and beyond them other demons and undead.

"It's not quite x-ray vision," Margo said, "but there is little that can block deathsight and tha don't really need to see their actual bodies."

Cordelia quickly spun round, trying to see what else was out there.

Five vampires, a demon, a pentagram, seven vampires, a lone vampire, a shadowed dome, another demon, a demon with three vampires, a gigantic black pulsing column, five more vampires, another pentagram, two demons with fifteen vampires, a large blob of dark mist, four more vampires—

After a quarter turn, Cordelia had seen enough.

"Dame?" Willow said. "How far can we see?"

"Tha, Mistress Willow, can see perhaps a thousand yards," Margo said. "My deathsight extends somewhat further."

So there were several dozen vampires within half a mile, and around twenty demons; many more than Cordelia would have expected. Had Sunnydale always been this bad?

"What is all this stuff, dame?" Xander asked, then quickly added, "the short version."

"Vampire, undead demon, necromantic spell," Margo said pointing. "All this mist's unfocused necrotic energy. That fog bank'll be a graveyard, and that—"

Margo pointed at the gigantic column. "—is the deathgate. Well, not the deathgate itself, but the primary necrotic flux from it."

Wave after wave of black magic surged up the column, then spread out at the top, separating into dark ropes that snaked through the sky, eventually dissipating into mist.

"Notice how it permeates the clouds," Margo said, then smiled. "When was the last time any of you saw the sun?"

Tuesday. The weather had been cloudy the last few days, unusual in Sunnydale, but it did happen.

"You mean," Willow said, "the deathgate's responsible, dame?"

"Not the deathgate alone," Margo said. "Its aura has blended with the hellmouth's to do what neither alone could manage; bend the very weather to the needs of the dark forces. This town'll never see the sun again, which should help reduce the population."

An understatement, but Margo was from England, a country where they only saw sunlight twice a month. She was used to living in perpetual gloom; she couldn't understand how much normal people would miss the sunlight. Once the tans started to go, so would the people.

"And if you look down," Margo said, "you'll see your enemies' true strength."

Cordelia looked.

Under her feet, rivers of black mist flowed, dark spells littered the ground, dozens of demons lurked, and, everywhere, there were vampires, hundreds of them.

"Now you know the true scale of the task you've chosen," Margo said, "I trust there'll be no more dawdling."

"Just sensible caution, dame," Cordelia said. "Killing all this lot will take a plan."

This undead face of Sunnydale would need a lot of thinking about, which must be what Margo wanted.

"A commendable ambition, love," Margo said, nodding respectfully, "but this spell will only last 'til dawn. Buffy, would you like to pick the next target?"

Buffy looked around, then smiled. "That eye thing."

* * *

"Did you ... see what ... I did?" Xander asked, three hours later.

"Can't talk ... and run," Cordelia said. She needed all her breath just to keep up with Buffy.

She had seen, of course. He'd been flailing around with his cane, during that last fight, and got a lucky hit in, dusting one of the vampires. Nice for him, but not worth talking about.

Margo stopped, and stared to the left.

"Ghouls!" she spat. "Which way to that graveyard, Mr Giles?"

Giles winced.

Cordelia looked left. The graveyard was a dim blur on the edge of her deathsight, half a mile away, but she could half-see indistinct shapes moving through the mist.

"Next left, Dame Margo," Giles said, "straight on down Stevenson Street until the end, and the gate's fifty yards on the left. Do—"

Margo darted off, leaving them all behind.

"Bad news?" Buffy said, looking at Giles.

Giles nodded solemnly. "Individual ghouls aren't dangerous. They're not much stronger than humans, and mostly less intelligent."

"Then why ... ?" Willow asked, looking at Margo.

"Ghouls killed her slayer," Giles said. "Dame Margo might get a little ... overenthusiastic."

"Her Helga was killed by weaklings?" Xander said, smiling. "And Margo claims she was better than Buffy?"

"Helga was outnumbered, one thousand against five."

Margo looked over her shoulder. "Don't stand there nattering. We've got ghouls to kill."

"One thousand?" Buffy said, as she started running. "Will I have to fight that many?"

"I shouldn't think so," Giles said. "Ghouls are normally solitary creatures, though from necessity not choice. They only eat corpses at least three days dead, and any form of respectful burial provides a protection against their depredations akin to that which prevents vampires entering uninvited. With their food so scarce, ghouls are perforce likewise scarce. It is only at times of mass death, when the earth is piled high with unburied corpses, that ghouls can gather into packs."

Giles, Cordelia noted sourly, didn't seem to have any trouble talking while he ran. Embarrassing, when he was over twice her age.

It must be part of watcher training, a necessary skill if they were to keep up with their slayers in the field.

"Locusts," Willow gasped, visibly struggling to keep up. "Deathgate?"

"An apt comparison," Giles said. "The deathgate may reduce the ghoul's need for sustenance, but of itself it can not create ghouls. It should take months for the ghoul numbers to increase, theoretically."

Then why had Margo said 'ghouls', plural?


	13. Cordelia's Ghost: Three faces of Death

Halfway down Stevenson Street Margo faltered.

"A paterghlum?" she said. "And Ngralth shall war with the rainbow."

Seventy yards behind her, Giles shuddered, and sped up.

Margo looked sideways at Buffy. "Is tha up to a challenge, love?"

"Why are you asking?" Buffy said, looking suspiciously at Margo.

And so she should. Margo had made it very clear she thought a slayer should attack all demons on sight. Giving Buffy a choice didn't fit.

Cordelia wasn't close enough to join in the conversation though; she was still lagging five yards behind Giles. She could only hope Buffy had enough sense not to let Margo lull her suspicions.

"All t'demons tha's fought tonight were little more than vermin, not deserving of caution," Margo said. "We've been avoiding owt truly dangerous."

Buffy stared disbelievingly at Margo.

"Twere for tha friends' sake. They are brave, Buffy, but they are not yet ready for the rigours of battle." Margo shrugged. "It irked me to pass such evils by, but the rate they're killing each other, I could live with it."

A policy Cordelia approved of, though she would have preferred to have been told in advance.

"Ngralth, I can not pass by," Margo said. "In the hour I saw my Helga die, I promised her vengeance on the ghouls, and all their foul kin. I will not break my word."

"Of course not," Buffy said. "I'll kill this demon for you."

"We'll kill it together, love" Margo said. "Alone, tha'd have little chance."

"No!" Giles gasped, "It's suicide."

"Giles —" Buffy began.

"—would be as much use against Ngralth as a chocolate teapot," Margo said firmly, then looked round. "Mr Giles, tha can guard the gate while we fight, but tell t'others the score first. They deserve fair warning."

Then Margo ran off again, Buffy following after a few moments hesitation.

Looking despondent, Giles slowed to a jog, giving Cordelia and the others a chance to catch up.

"Catule tenebrae, audi me et contremisce" Margo shouted as she ran, her voice once more ten thousand knights, charging into battle. "quia veni cum hasta augustissima ut mortem portem omni quae vorant mortem."

"A spell?" Willow shouted, still a few yards behind Cordelia.

"A challenge," Giles shouted back. "Essentially, 'Die, demon, die,' but with more style — and maybe a tiny spot of magic."

"Filia terrae, audi me et contremisce," a voice replied, oozing through the air like pus squeezed from an infected wound. It was a voice woven from the sounds of a myriad deaths, the gurgle of blood gushing from a punctured lung mingling with the crack of a breaking skull, screams of agony mingling with the final whimpers of the deathly ill as they succumbed to their coughs and fevers, and behind it all, the buzz of flies and the busy sound of maggots chewing through rotting flesh.

An unpleasant sound, but set against the voice that had whispered in the darkness of her nightmares it seemed no worse than Snyder; an amateur effort, holding no terrors.

Giles stopped running and turned round, his face pale and trembling.

"Quia Ngralth sum, qui te vincet sicut mortem vicit," Ngralth said. "Pede supplicabis et implorabis vorare carnem hastae tuae a manu meo."

"Challenge heard, and accepted," Giles said quietly.

"What's it … mean?" Willow asked, still panting from her run. "Hast high, that's what Margo calls Buffy, right?"

"Hastae," Giles said, nudging his glasses. "Um, it was just boasting. That's all. Standard demonic practice. Not significant. Mustn't be taken literally."

"You sound nervous," Willow said carefully. "Is Ngralth really that bad?"

"You sound rather calm," Giles said.

Xander smiled. "We've heard worse. You did, yesterday."

"Muffled," Giles said. "And you coped with that surprisingly well, too. Um, maybe … but we can leave that until later. Ngralth is a paterghlum; in English, a father of ghouls."

"So, he'd be worse than a ghoul?" Cordelia said carefully, deliberately giving Giles an opening for a lecture. The delay might give Buffy a chance to kill the demon while Cordelia was still at a safe distance and, if not, knowing the demon's weaknesses should help Cordelia keep herself alive.

"Much worse," Giles said. "He is a master of the magics of death and decay. With one touch, he can riddle your flesh with rot, slaying you in a heartbeat, or inflict on you wounds that will endlessly fester, devouring your body from within, even as the pain drives you insane. He can summon zombies from their graves with a single word, chain unwilling ghosts to his service, or simply shape his minions from the essence of death itself. He—"

"But Buffy's got superhealing now," Xander said. "He won't be able to do anything to her."

"Maybe," Giles said. "If the blood demon was stronger than Ngralth is, and even if it was, the side-effects from the clash of two such magics are … unlikely to be desirable."

"He's been killed before," Willow said. "He must have some weakness."

"He is vulnerable to the magics of life," Giles conceded. "Last time, the council used the greater invocation of Ishtar; not quite strong enough to actually kill him, but sufficient to weaken him enough that the slayer could."

"So, you and Margo do that," Xander said. "Where's the problem."

Giles smiled. "Quite apart from the hours of chanting, that invocation requires five women simultaneously to give birth at a heliacal rising of Venus, each woman being located both on one point of a pentagram within which the target lies and also at the center of a smaller pentagram marking that point, with five couples at the points of each such smaller pentagram and each of those couple being in coitus at the critical moment."

Giles paused, looking at Xander. "I suspect we might encounter some small difficulty in making the necessary arrangements at this short notice."

"No need for sarcasm," Xander said, scowling.

"Margo thinks she can win," Cordelia pointed out. "She must know some other way."

"There are simpler options—" Giles said.

"Why didn't they use them, last time?" Willow interrupted.

"They require great power, and the council does not directly employ anyone with such. It would create too many internal security problems."

"What about Margo?" Willow asked, and Cordelia sighed. It was an obvious question, but this was not the right time to ask it.

"If Dame Margo had possessed this level of power when she was young she'd have been placed in one of the covens. It must be another of the benefits of alchemy," Giles said. "Or maybe of this so-called higher arcanum."

"Margo thinks she can win," Cordelia repeated, before Giles could digress further. "Why don't you trust her to."

"Firstly," Giles said. "The, admittedly baroque, rituals provide a safety net. Without them, if Dame Margo is pushed too near her limits there's a strong chance she'll lose control of her magic. Um, think of it as like a dam burst. There'd be a surge of wild magic that would sweep away Ngralth, and half the town with him."

Not good, but Margo clearly didn't think that would be a problem, and she should have a better idea of her limits than Giles did.

"Secondly," Giles said. "Dame Margo believes in dying gloriously; noble sacrifices for the greater good, and all that."

"She won't do that tonight," Cordelia said, immediately catching the implication. "She's already booked Sunday for that."

"There are other board members who could step in," Giles said, "but there are no other white magics so potent as that of a willing self-sacrifice."

"You think Margo's going to kill herself?" Xander said. "What about Buffy?"

"Dame Margo would expect Buffy to be grateful for the chance of a glorious death."

"Buffy doesn't think that way," Willow said sharply. "We can't let it happen."

"I don't want to, but—" Giles began.

Ignoring him, Xander ran off, towards the graveyard.

"There must be something we can do," Willow said, scowling at Giles, then ran off after Xander.

Cordelia looked at Giles. "Don't give up. I've seen Buffy walk into certain death before, and live."

"The visions you were shown," Giles said quietly, then smiled. "And the new prophecies do say she will return from death at least once."

Giles looked at Cordelia a moment longer, then he too ran off.

Cordelia shrugged, and followed him. She might have preferred to stay put, at a safe distance from the fight, but not alone.

* * *

Giles caught up with Xander a few yards short of the cemetary gates.

"Slow down," he said. "We need a plan."

"A good plan," Cordelia agreed, as she drew level with Willow.

Xander scowled at him. "Buffy's in danger. We can't just stand around, talking."

"Um," Willow said, looking at the demon, "I think Giles is right."

Cordelia nodded. Ngralth was in the middle of the cemetary, sitting on a large pile of broken coffins, but even at that distance she could tell he would be no pushover.

Physically, he wasn't much to look at: short and grossly fat, his arms and legs almost lost amidst the great rolls of pallid flesh glistening with slime, but this night Cordelia had senses other than sight.

It hadn't take her long to realise the more dark energy a demon had, the more deadly it was. Vampires had the least, barely enough to animate their undead flesh, and they died easily. The demons had more, sometimes enough to fill their bodies with shadow, and they put up much more of a fight than the vampires had.

Ngralth wasn't merely full of dark energy; he was overflowing with it, his aura fouling the air for five yards around him, and with his hands he was gathering more power from the air, shaping it into some geometrical construct.

He'd had dozens of ghoul minions too, before Buffy arrived. Most of them were now laying amidst the open graves, only three were still fighting, creatures almost human in shape, but with green skin and canine muzzles.

Cordelia frowned suspiciously. Half the ghouls were wearing normal clothes, only slightly torn.

"How does Ngralth make new ghouls?" she asked, looking at Giles.

Margo ducked beneath a punch, then smashed the ghoul's knee with the backside of her fan.

"The details are uncertain," Giles said, nudging his glasses, "but it is thought he has some way of filling the dead and the living alike with his hunger for flesh. Once converted, there is no cure."

Buffy punched one ghoul out, then spun round and kicked a second in the jaw. It staggered backwards, towards Margo, who casually slashed its throat with her fan, then shook off the blood.

"Are you sure?" Willow asked, grimacing.

The last ghoul crumbled to the ground, hit on the head by Buffy.

"Yes," Giles said.

"How do I kill him," Buffy said, looking at Margo.

Ngralth smiled, his mouth opening inhumanly wide. "You don't."

"Use tha intution," Margo said, ignoring Ngralth.

"I have laid cities waste," Ngralth said, "Devoured nations."

"Old news," Margo said, knights charging. "Three thousand years have passed since tha last great feeding, and for the —"

"Silence," Ngralth said, in his voice the screams of dying knights. "I have the strength of seven slayers and the speed of a striking serpent. I am a bringer of decay, a bearer of plague, an herald of doom, and there is naught of this world that can stand against me, for the hope of man has f-f-f—"

"I can neither lie nor be lied to," Margo said, as Ngralth struggled to speak. "So know this. Tha doom has been sealed. For thi there can be no lasting victory."

Willow looked at Giles. "We're of this world. Is Buffy? That is, I know she's not an alien but, with the slayer stuff …"

"Nothing lasts for ever," Ngralth said. "This night I will break this city to my will. All who live here shall serve me; quick or dead, human or demon, they shall serve me. Together they shall form an army such as has not seen in ten thousand years, and you shall carry our banners high. Across all the lands of men we will ravin, until this world is mine."

Listening, Cordelia tensed. She knew Margo's no-lie spell couldn't really apply to talk about the future, or Margo would be able to make anything happen simply by saying it would, but Ngralth clearly believed he could do those things, which fitted with what Giles and Margo had been saying.

The few dozen yards between Cordelia and Ngralth was looking less and less like a safe distance.

"Uncertain," Giles said quietly to Willow. "But magic is always otherworldly, and only intentional deception is prohibited."

"My children shall roam the lands," Ngralth went on. "devouring all life, until only they remain, and then I will turn them upon each other. Ghoul shall devour ghoul, in a cycle without end, while I reign over all, the conqueror of death. So it shall be, until the stars grow cold."

Ngralth smiled happily, his voice growing misty. "It shall be glorious."

"What's he on?" Xander said, staring at Ngralth. "What's the point of that?"

Cordelia nodded. Ruling the world had obvious attractions, and she could understand why someone might want to destroy it, out of pique, or to feel the thrill of power, but the demon's fantasy was pure madness, the product of a deranged mind.

"You would have only days to enjoy your victory," Margo said. "Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch is stirring."

Giles frowned uncertainly, and began mumbling weird words under his breath.

"What?" Ngralth snapped, leaning forward. "That cannot be."

"So it is written," Margo said, "in prophecy."

"There must be some mistake," Ngralth said.

"Sharksong?" Giles said hesitantly. "Xeng Falsh? Thychlth?"

Then his eyes widened, and he grew pale.

"Ngralth shall war with the rainbow," Margo quoted, "but victory shall avail him not, for Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch stirs. Before three days have passed he shall stretch forth his hand to claim this world."

Ngralth stared at Margo, his face the image of despair.

Cordelia smiled approvingly. Psychological warfare might not look dramatic, but it would as much to weaken Ngralth as any merely physical assault.

Willow looked briefly uncertain, then smiled. "It's not just grey between black and white, is it? Who's Pukkch-, Pikre-, Pichreksung—"

She spluttered to an halt, unable to pronounce the name.

"I think he's the one we normally call Fein Dahlk," Giles said. "The father of the fathers of ghouls."

"Dysfunctional family?" Cordelia guessed.

Giles nodded, looking thoughtful. "Fein Dahlk is to Ngralth as Ngralth is to a common ghoul. Should he return, Ngralth would be just another minion, or maybe a snack."

"Three days." Ngralth said, then laughed sardonically. "So short a time …"

"Any weaknesses?" Willow said uncertainly.

Giles hesitated. "They'll have to open the Ragnarok Vault. Nothing less would do."

"Ma—" Xander began, smiling, then frowned. "We're talking apocalypse, right? How many is that this week?"

Margo looked at Ngralth, still whining about his life being cut so tragically short, then discreetly gestured at Buffy.

"Too many," Cordelia said. One a year was more than enough.

"Everything should calm down once Dame Margo seals the deathgate," Giles said.

Buffy shrugged at Margo, who repeated her gestures more vigorously.

After a few seconds Buffy nodded.

Margo casually stroked her chin with four fingers, then with three, with two.

"It's starting," Willow whispered, unnecessarily.

One finger, and Buffy sprang at Ngralth.

The pile of coffins exploded into flame.

Dazzled, Cordelia rubbed her eyes, then looked back at the fight.

Beneath Ngralth, the coffins had already crumbled to ash, leaving him suspended ten feet above the ground.

As he fell, Buffy's kick caught him on the chin.

Ngralth blinked, then blurred, and Buffy was sent hurtling headfirst towards a gravestone.

Margo began singing, "Where has tha …"

Catlike, Buffy twisted in mid-air, hitting the gravestone elbow first

Ngralth landed amidst the coffin ashes, then turned to face Margo.

"… since I saw thi …" Margo sang, slowly walking round Ngralth, clockwise.

Buffy rolled away from the gravestone, then jumped to her feet, looking carefully at Ngralth.

"Woman," Ngralth said, "there—"

Buffy hurled a stake at him.

Ngralth laughed as he plucked it from the air, then flipped it round.

A blur, and Buffy staggered backwards, a stake though her navel.

"… Moor baht'at. Where has tha …" Margo sang.

"There is no power in your song," Ngralth said. "You are no threat."

Willow looked uncertainly at Giles. "Is that really true?"

Buffy pulled out the stake and cast it aside, the hole immediately beginning to heal.

"It's not any form of magic I recognise," Giles said, tapping his fingers against his lips and winking.

"… baht'at. On Ilkley …" Margo sang.

"What is it she's singing?" Willow asked.

"A Yorkshire folk song," Giles said. "Completely unmagical."

If that were really true, Margo wouldn't be singing it, but Ngralth was too arrogant to realise that. Like every other demons he wouldn't take Cordelia and her friends seriously, until it was too late.

"How many verses?" Willow asked, winking.

"Oh, at least twenty," Giles said. "Thirty-four if she includes all the special verses, but she hasn't been drinking quite that much."

"She did have a few bottles of wine with dinner," Cordelia said, ostentatiously glancing at Ngralth.

Ngralth smiled at Buffy, "Think that spell will protect you?"

"Margo's good at magic," Buffy said, a nice piece of misdirection.

"Dame Margo assured me that would not be a problem," Giles said. "She said that wine isn't a real drink, not like Yorkshire ale. She said any real Yorkshirewoman could drink ten bottles of that weak foreign stuff, and still be able to walk thirty miles across the moors in a blizzard then kill a dozen demons with nothing but a broom. Think Texas, with sheep, and heather, and ferrets."

And if Ngralth was arrogant enough to believe even half that nonsense whatever Margo was planning would take him by complete surprise.

"… catch tha death of cold, without thi trousers on. …" Margo sang.

"There is no spell any mere human can cast that I cannot break," Ngralth said.

"Um," Xander said, hiding a smile, "can she do it without a broom?"

Ngralth started singing in a strange language, and as he sang his dark aura swelled outwards, forming tendrils that caressed Buffy's skin.

"Assyrian," Giles said. "He's trying to break the quick healing spell."

"… ducks play football." Margo sang. "Then we shall have to bury …"

Buffy hesitated, then started to back away from Ngralth, across the graves.

A quick gesture, and a grave opened beneath Buffy, then slammed closed, trapping her legs.

"Giles," Buffy shouted, "What—"

Ngralth sneered, then pointed at Cordelia, and the others, with his left hand.

Cordelia tensed, ready to dodge.

The dark mist thickened round his hand, condensing into a ball of shadows.

"Watch, and know despair," Ngralth said, sending the ball racing towards Cordelia before resuming his spell.

Still singing, Margo sketched a shape in the air, her fingers leaving a rainbow trail, then flicked it towards Cordelia.

Accelerating, the ball veered up, stopping when it was directly overhead.

Margo's spell hit the ground a few feet from Cordelia, a small tangle of rainbows.

The ball cracked open.

The rainbows unfolded, a delicate filigree spreading around Cordelia's feet.

"Not bad," Ngralth said, "for a human. If you were neither drunk nor deranged you might almost be a nuisance."

Something squirmed out of the ball; a worm; fat and slimy, with a shark's mouth.

The filigree was forming recognisable shapes now; a seal of Solomon inside a circle inside another seal, all decorated with strange symbols, but too late.

The worm demon slithered through the air, straight towards Cordelia, behind it three more worms squirming out of the disintegrating ball.

"No!" Giles shouted.

Cordelia dodged right, but the worm demon followed, faster than she could move, its jaws opening wide.

"Giles!" she said, struggling to sound calm, then the demon's jaws snapped closed, around her head.

There was no pain.

A blur of shadows, and the demon vanished.

Cordelia spun round frantically, trying to see where it had gone, then froze.

"Giles," Willow said, her voice tinged with mingled shock and despair. "What …"

Cordelia tuned out the words, her attention locked on the demon in front of her, squirming round inside Willow's head.

Hastily, she looked at Xander, and saw another of the demons, getting comfortable behind his eyes.

Possession, then? She didn't feel any different, yet.

Giles grimaced in concentration as the last demon bit down on his head, and its teeth shattered, as if on some invisible shield.

Cordelia's chin started itching.

"Resist," Giles said, backing away from them. "Try to resist. They can't take your body while you live without an invitation. Nothing can."

Just like nothing could open a deathgate from the far side. Exactly like, in fact; it was all part of the same spell, a spell that had already failed once. She couldn't trust in that hope.

But this was her body, her life. She wouldn't give it up without a fight.

Cordelia's stomach rumbled.

She twitched, but ignored it. She'd eaten far more than normal today. She couldn't be hungry.

But she was. Cakes and buns weren't filling enough. She needed meat.

She'd had that at dinner. She wasn't hungry now.

But that was ages ago. She needed to eat now.

'Demon,' Cordelia thought angrily, realising what was happening. 'I am not hungry, and there's nothing to eat here anyway. Get out of my head, now!'

Talking to herself like that wasn't healthy. The hunger must be getting to her.

'Demon, I know it's you. Get out of my head.'

What she needed was meat, lovely succulent meat.

'You are not welcome here. Get out,' Cordelia thought, trying to remember how Giles had done that exorcism.

A nice rare stake, something she could really get her teeth into.

Cordelia licked her lips. 'Not interested, and stop pretending you're me. I saw you.'

That was cheating. She shouldn't have seen a thing, just been overcome by hunger.

'Tough,' Cordelia mentally snapped. 'I'm warning you: leave now, or be exorcised.'

She should give into her hungers, all of them.

'No. This is my rightful body. Leave now, or be exorcised.' Repetitive, but from what she remembered she needed to say everything three times.

She was hungry, hungrier than she'd been since before that last diet. She had to eat.

No, she wasn't, not really. Cordelia ignored her grumbling stomach and focused her attention inwards. 'This is your final warning. Leave now, or be exorcised.'

Pork would be good, or something similar.

Cordelia hesitated. After the warning came the curses, but she couldn't use the same ones as Xander had. This was a demon; it didn't care if it couldn't use a comb. No, she needed stronger curses, curses terrifying enough to send a demon running.

Xander shrieked in pain as he fell to his knees, blood pouring from his eyes and nose.

The worm demon crawled out of his skull, trailing etherial slime, and lurched away from Xander.

That couldn't be right. The demons couldn't be beaten by untrained children, not in the presence of their master.

'It lost,' Cordelia told the demon. 'And so will you.'

"Nightmares," Xander said quietly, his voiced tinged with terror. "Remember."

Yes, that should work. Not even a demon would want to be cursed to suffer those horrors.

Nothing would work. She might as well surrender to her hungers.

Her eyes closed in concentration, Cordelia summoned up the memories of nightmare, letting them flood her mind. She'd-

Pain!

Cordelia fell to her knees, the demon's terrified screams filling her thoughts.

A blur of shadows, and the demon was lurching away from her.

Cordelia sank into meditation, quickly pushing the memories to the deepest recesses of her mind.

When she opened her eyes again Giles was crouching in front of her, a tissue in his hand.

"—erly impossible!" Ngralth shouted. "It cannot be. It can not be. It can not be."

"It is," Buffy said, still struggling to free her legs. "You lost."

Cordelia took the tissue, and began wiping the blood from her face.

"Remarkable," Giles said. "The Staniforth meditation?"

"It's OK, Willow," Xander said, hands nervously hovering above her shoulder. "The demon's gone."

"No," Cordelia said. "It was the nightmares. They fled the moment we thought about them. Right, Xander?"

"Nightmares?" Ngralth said, turning to face Cordelia and the others.

"Yes," Willow said, her voice shaky, then took a tissue from Xander. "But you didn't have any, Giles. How did you keep it out?"

"He's a watcher. He'll have had special training," Cordelia said. He'd probably learnt a lot in his Ripper days too, being possessed by Eyghon.

"I know that," Willow said, wiping the blood from her face. "I want to know how he did it."

Giles nodded, looking thoughtful. "I do have some books on the subject. Um, you're sure it was the nightmare memories that drove them off?"

"Yes," Xander said. "Does it matter?"

"What nightmares?" Ngralth shouted. "Answer me, or taste my wrath."

Giles looked down at the three wounded demons, each one now bashing its head against the rainbow seal. They were clearly hurting themselves, the light boiling away their shadows, but still they persisted.

The other demon, the one that had targeted Giles, huddled in the centre of the circle, looking nervously around.

"There are not many things that can drive a demon to suicide," Giles said as the first demon died. "Given their source, it's certainly conceivable your memories are among them, but that does raise worrying questions."

The fourth demon burrowed into the earth.

"Suffer!" Ngralth shouted, sending a large ball of black mist hurtling toward Cordelia.

She smiled as it splashed harmlessly on the outside of the rainbow seal, then shouted "Pathetic."

Ngralth couldn't harm them now, not with the seal in place, and if he wasted his time on futile attacks that should improve Buffy and Margo's chances.

"Trying to tickle us?" Xander shouted at Ngralth, then looked at Giles. "What questions?"

"Later," Giles said. "I need to consult my books."

"… come and eat up ducks, …" Margo sang, still circling Ngralth.

"Isn't that good?" Willow said. "No demon will be able to possess us. Will it work on telepaths too?"

"Probably," Giles said absently, then looked sternly at Willow. "Don't try it, except as a last resort. To embrace such memories could shatter your mind."

"Suffer!" Ngralth shouted, hurling another spell at Cordelia, and the others.

As it splashed against the seal, Buffy finally freed herself.

Giles frowned, then stood and faced Ngralth.

"These three have faced a whisperer in darkness," he said. "Your puny terrors can have no power over them."

"What!" Ngralth screamed. "You fools! You damned fools! Don't you know what that means? You must destroy them. Rend their unclean souls now, or the world is doomed."

Cordelia frowned. That was too much like what the blood demon had said for comfort.

"No," Giles said firmly. "We will find another way."

"Margo," Ngralth said. "I am not lying. They must be destroyed, for all our sakes. Withdraw your feeble magics, that I may more easily destroy them. Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch will reward us both for this great deed. He might even grant us godhood for this, and dominion over all the worlds that be."

Margo did not respond, but went on singing. "… we shall all have eaten thi …"

Ngralth started chanting.

"Now he's trying to break Margo's seal," Giles said. "We've got about ten minutes, if he plays safe."

"If not?" Cordelia said quickly.

"Ninety seconds, at the risk of overextending himself."

And yet, Giles didn't seem worried. Margo must be near the end of her song.

"What's he so scared of?" Willow asked. "He sounds like the other demon did."

Giles nudged his glasses. "Dame Margo said I had no immediate need to know. She would be taking care of that problem herself. She did point out a book on the whisperers the board had sent, but it was in Linear A, which I can't read. It'll take me a few days to find a dictionary, and decipher it."

"Whisperers? You mean like the shadow tree," Cordelia said, showing off her quick comprehension.

She'd have preferred to know what was scaring the demons, but knowing there was an acceptable solution did help. Margo wouldn't try throwing Cordelia out of the universe, or destroying her soul.

Giles nodded.

"… Ilkley Moor baht'at," Margo sang. "On Ilkley Moor baht'at, on Ilkley Moor baht'at, for death is but a joke."

There was a moment of silence, then Margo blazed with a rainbow light, brighter than the midday sun.

Under that radiant glare, the dark mists evaporated, clearing an ever-growing circle of the energies of undeath.

"Tenebrae mea," Margo said, pointing at Ngralth, and the light swept over him.

He screamed, a small dark blot amidst the rainbow glory, fast melting away.

Dazzled, Cordelia blinked, then shielded her eyes from the spectacle.

"Mors jocum est non," Ngralth said, his voice a feeble croak, and the light wavered. "Vincium eadem rem minimam est non."

"Buffy," Margo said. "Get him while he's weak."

Buffy looked uneasily at the light, then picked her stake back up.

"Vivo," Ngralth said. "Debellabo. Vincam."

The rainbow faded, flickered, then was gone.

"That stung," Ngralth said, a blatant quarter-truth.

Most of his dark aura had been swept away by the rainbow light, and with it, it seemed, all the trappings of his power.

Advancing towards him, Buffy threw the stake.

He dodged, barely.

"He's weak enough physically that you can kill him now, Buffy," Giles shouted. "Try for a decapitation."

Cordelia nodded. His great speed had gone, leaving him no faster than Buffy. His voice had gone; the symphony of death reduced to the whine of a single flute. Nor was his appearance unchanged.

He no longer looked like the demon he had once been, when he lived, but like what he truely was, a zombie possessed, the body of a middle-aged man dressed in rotting rags clearly visible behind the faint image of his other face.

"Do it again, Dame," Xander shouted. "We can sing along."

"That won't be necessary," Giles quickly said. "Ngralth will not—"

Ngralth gestured, and the ground opened beneath Margo.

"—be fooled the same way—"

Margo smiled as she fell, and the earth shifted underneath her, gently breaking her fall, then lifting her up high.

"—again. Nor will he underestimate her—"

Buffy kicked Ngralth in the small of the back.

"—much."

Ngralth half-turned, aimed a punch at Buffy's stomach, then tripped her as she dodged, before he turned back to face Margo.

Margo threw a small rainbow ball at him, but he caught it in his left hand and grinned. "Subferre!"

Groaning in pain, Margo stumbled back a few steps, then steadied herself. "Argento vincire!"

The earth round Ngralth's feet fountained up, chunks of soil swirling round him in complex patterns. Then they shimmered, becoming a net of silver chains, tightly binding him.

"Anyway," Giles said as Buffy took advantage, "Singing along would only work if the song was ritual magic, which it cannot have been. It would be against all the rules I know."

Ngralth laughed as he snapped the chains, then outfeinted Buffy, kicking her in the kidneys.

Xander winced. "We should do something."

"We can only watch," Giles said as Margo set Ngralth's rags on fire. "If we tried to join that fight we'd only be a distraction."

"We're guarding the gate," Cordelia said, then frowned. Margo had sounded so certain they could that Cordelia had never thought to wonder how.

Ngralth pointed at a gravestone behind Buffy, which exploded, shredding her legs, then turned and leapt at Margo.

She rolled with the impact, slashing at his chest with her fan, and shouted "Hominibus omnibus!"

A rainbow flicker, and Ngralth retreated, his undead flesh fast healing.

"Why?" Xander said, "From what? We should help Buffy."

"How?" Giles said flatly.

A command from Ngralth, and the air around him thickened, congealing into a swarm of flies.

Xander looked briefly uncertain, then repeated "We should do something."

The swarm flew toward Buffy.

"We are," Giles said. "We're guarding the gate. If any other demons came to help Ngralth—"

"Fight him," Cordelia corrected. They'd already seen three demon-demon fights so far, as well as the ones she'd heard about from Angel. "Demons don't play well together."

Buffy franticly tried to brush the flies away, but more and more kept landing, crawling all over her, until she was completely covered, and still the flies came.

"A three cornered fight would be … messy," Giles said. "An ally for Ngralth, disastrous. Either way, we need to keep any other demons out."

Margo smiled. "Bellus fite!" and the flies became moths, flitting away on the breeze.

Buffy spat out a few dozen flies, then brushed herself down.

Willow looked at the fight, then at Giles. "We might have to fight demons?"

"Hasta mortis," Ngralth said, and a long bone spear appeared in his hand.

Giles nodded.

Ngralth hurled the spear at Margo, who leaned sideways, opening her fan.

"Without Buffy?" Willow asked.

Giles nodded again, a little more slowly.

The spear hit the fan, and disintegrated, leaving Margo untouched.

"Lots of demons? Big, strong demons? With magic powers?"

"Maybe," Giles said. "This fight will have been noticed."

"How?" Willow said. "Without Buffy?"

Cordelia nodded. They could fight off a single vampire, maybe two if they were both young and she got lucky with the crossbow, but not demons, not yet.

Ngralth laughed as the ground beneath Buffy melted into a pool of foul-smelling pus.

Giles winced, and started polishing his glasses. "It might be a little difficult—"

"Mors tua vide," Ngralth said, pointing at Margo, and she froze.

"Difficult?" Cordelia said. "Understatement, much?"

Xander smiled. "He is English."

"So I won't give up," Giles said, half-smiling. "We will do our bit, when the demons come, for Buffy's sake."

"Of course," Xander said. "We'll show Buffy what we're made of."

That was what Cordelia was afraid of, but she couldn't say that. It'd make her look bad.

Buffy clambered out of the pool, then made a half-hearted attempt to wring the pus from her hair.

Willow frowned. "We won't have to kill the demons ourselves, though, right? We just have to hold them off until Buffy wins, and is free to rescue us, which won't be long now, will it?"

"Maybe," Giles said, putting his glasses back on. "Whatever Margo did greatly weakened Ngralth. He's on a par with Buffy now, physically, and Dame Margo seems able to match him magically, but he has millennia more experience than either of them."

"Anima," Ngralth said, and deep within the pool of pus the dark mist shimmered, forming a complex knot of undead energies.

"A death to be proud of," Margo said smiling, then Ngralth punched her in the mouth.

"If Ngralth slips up, this fight might be over in five minutes," Giles said.

As Margo stumbled backwards, something crawled out of the pus, vaguely human in shape.

"If not, it could last hours, maybe days, hence the restraint they're both showing."

The pus creature charged at Buffy, who easily dodged.

"Days?" Willow said, "What about sleep?"

"Buffy's the slayer. She can go a few days without sleep, in an emergency, and I suspect Dame Margo will have made similar enhancements to herself, but I doubt it'll come to that. Ngralth should be weaker in daylight."

A second creature crawled out of the pool, then a third.

A quick word from Margo, and the pool was water; the dark knot in its depths snuffed out.

"If we're supposed to be guarding the gate, perhaps we should be facing the other way," Cordelia said, turning round.

She wouldn't be able to see what Ngralth was doing but, on the plus side, she wouldn't be able to see what he was doing, and it wasn't as if she could do anything if Ngralth won.

Xander looked at Willow, stared briefly at Buffy, now fighting off all three pus creatures, then nodded and turned to face the gate.

"Giles," he said, after a short silence. "You are going to teach us how to fight demons, right?"

"How to defend yourself against them," Giles corrected. "Dame Margo's arguments were most convincing."

"Now might be a good time to start."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Cordelia stood peering into the darkness beyond the gate, trying to see if anything was moving out there.

They'd been lucky so far; two vampires, which Giles had dusted with his crossbow, and a loser demon, which had run away when it realised the scale of the fight, but on the hellmouth luck never lasted for long.

"—and encourage them to gloat," Giles said quietly. "Anything to buy time."

Xander nudged Giles, then tapped his own ear.

Cordelia leaned forwards, listening intently; footsteps, and a faint rattle, slowly approaching.

She could see movement now, two shapes, both human-seeming, one of them pushing something, and neither of them had any dark mist inside them.

Not undead then. They must be living demons, or possibly human, but people didn't normally visit graveyards at midnight.

She could see them clearly now, two robed figures, one in black, pushing a pram, the other in an ugly shade of mustard.

Besides her, Xander tensed.

They were both wearing masks, the same colour as their robes, and fastened with many leather straps.

Cordelia began loading her crossbow.

"Relax," the one in mustard said, stopping just outside the gate. "We're here to help."

"Then show your faces," Giles said

"Mr Giles," mustard robes said jovially. "There's no need for that attitude. We're just a couple of concerned citizens, here to help the community."

Cordelia smiled. Judging by his stance, and the confidence filling his voice, mustard robes was someone accustomed to authority who thought they had a lot of charisma. They clearly expected to be able to bamboozle Giles with a few sweet words, but they weren't in Margo's league.

They couldn't hope to succeed, but they might give themselves away. Already, Cordelia was near certain that they were human, and well known.

"You know who I am," Giles said. "Let me see your faces."

"We're being watched," mustard robes said, then looked at black robes.

"No," black robes said. "This isn't right. I won't do it."

"Did you read your contract of employment?" mustard robes said.

"Yes."

"Including the small print?"

"Um, not all of it, but—"

"It clearly states that you agree to be terminated if you do not meet my standards."

Black robes shuddered, then slowly lifted a baby out of the pram.

"Is it still clean?" mustard robes asked.

Black robes nodded, then looked at Giles. "I have no choice."

Drawing the obvious conclusion, Cordelia aimed her crossbow, then hesitated. Mustard robes wasn't a demon; he was human.

"Giles," Willow frantically whispered, "Stop him."

"Willow," mustard robes said, taking the baby, "I'm here to help you."

"Put that child down," Giles said, "or I will shoot."

Mustard robes shoved the pram at Giles.

Giles dodged, losing his aim.

Mustard robes pulled out a dagger.

Cordelia fired her crossbow, aiming for the heart.

She missed, the bolt whirring over mustard robe's shoulder.

"A sacrificio hoc," mustard robes shouted, plunging the dagger into the baby's heart. "Liberos noctis veto inire hic."

Then he tossed the baby aside, throwing its corpse into the gutter like a discarded cigarette.

Burning with fury, Cordelia swore and reloaded the crossbow.

"Kill him," Willow shouted, her voice distorted by rage as Xander charged at mustard robes.

"No," Giles said. "You mustn't kill people. Don't let him provoke you."

Around them the black mists swirled, funnelling into the little corpse.

Black robes stared at his hands, his shoulders trembling.

"Who dares?" Ngralth shouted, somewhere behind them.

Cordelia fired again, grazing mustard robe's hip.

He wobbled, then steadied himself and pulled some tissues out of his robes.

Willow scowled at Giles. "He deserves to die."

Xander swung wildly at mustard robes, who dodged then kneed Xander in the groin.

Giles nodded. "It's not him I'm concerned about. It's you."

Still the energies of undeath poured into the corpse, wave upon wave.

"Stop," Margo said, steel in her voice. "Necromancer, I name thi a traitor to humanity. Tha'll neither leave this place, nor harm any living soul until I have passed sentence upon thi."

Mustard robes hesitated, then slowly backed away.

"Stop!" Margo repeated, her voice the thunder of a charging army.

Mustard robes stopped mid-stride, then hurriedly started cleaning his hands with the tissues.

Cordelia half turned and stepped backwards, giving herself a clear view of both Margo and mustard robes.

Buffy had been swallowed by the earth, again, but Margo and Ngralth were circling round each other.

"He is mine," Ngralth said, throwing a spell at Margo. "He has had the temerity to tamper in my domain."

"This is my town," mustard robes said, only a slight tremble in his voice. "You are not welcome here."

"This world is mankind's," Margo said, throwing a spell back at Ngralth, "and those within it, their own masters. Both your claims are spurious."

The mists shuddered around the corpse, and a shape rose up; the baby's ghost, wrapped in writhing chains, its face contorted in a silent scream.

Cordelia winced. Those chains were barbed, ripping holes in the ghost's flesh as they slid over its skin. She had seen worse, of course, but mild torture was still torture.

At least Margo had only given them deathsight, not death ears, Cordelia could always look away from the ghost's torment, if it got too gruesome; she would not have been able to block out the sound of its screams.

"Xander," Giles said sharply, "get back in this circle."

The ghost floated towards Cordelia, and the others, stopping in the centre of the gate.

"Madam," mustard robes said, "Ngralth is our common enemy. Quarrelling amongst ourselves will only aid him."

If mustard robes thought that would work, he must have no idea who Margo was.

"Liberare," Margo said, and the earth freed Buffy from its grip, letting her climb out.

"Subferre," Ngralth said, hurling a ball of shadows at mustard robes.

"He is my enemy. Tha's only his rival," Margo said, "I will not treat with a betrayer of mankind."

As it passed over the gate the ball swerved, abruptly diving down to hit the ghost.

The ghost convulsed as ulcers opened on its ravaged skin.

Xander straightened up, looking warily at the two robed men, then hurried back inside the circle, ducking under the ghost as he passed through the gate.

"I've barred this gate against Ngralth for y—" mustard robes said, choking on the last word.

"No lies, traitor." Margo said. "Your methods are unacceptable."

"Vermes," Ngralth said, pointing at Margo, and maggots crawled out of the earth, swarming up her legs.

Disgusting, but no real threat. Ngralth must be trying to fray Margo's nerves, a strategy which would take a long to work, if it ever did. Ngralth would probably lose his patience first.

"My methods work," mustard robes said. "Rainbows fade but death is forever. My ward can hold Ngralth here for centuries."

"How?" Willow asked quietly. "Why can't it climb the wall?"

"Incende," Margo said, and the maggots burned in rainbow flames. "Tha'd release him once he agreed to serve thi. I have faced tha sort before."

"The gate is the only legitimate exit," Giles said. "Blocking it symbolically blocks all exits."

"I would never serve a mere human," Ngralth said, shaping a skull-headed mace from the air.

"Tha may believe that now," Margo said, "A few years of hunger 'd change tha tune."

Buffy dodged the mace, then shattered Ngralth's left knee with a kick.

Ngralth stumbled sideways, then opened yet another pit under Buffy, but she did not fall.

This time she had anticipated, jumping backwards to land on the new pit's edge.

"It works," mustard robes said. "Isn't that enough? Let me go."

"No, traitor," Margo said. "That tha need ask condemns thi."

Cordelia nodded, wondering what punishment Margo intended.

Ngralth threw another spell at mustard robes but it too veered off course, hitting the ghost.

"To see the mighty Ngralth reduced to this …" mustard robes said, laughing. "Madam, your people should be able to dispose of this pathetic wreck."

"Moriere!" Ngralth shouted, and again the spell was stopped by the ghost.

"Let's leave them to it," mustard robes said. "We can discuss important matters while they play."

"I will not negotiate with thi, traitor," Margo said, conjuring up a rainbow circle round Buffy.

"Surely we can come to some mutually beneficial agreement?" mustard robes said.

Cordelia smiled. Mustard robes must be feeling desperate if he was resorting to that old cliche.

"Enough of your slights," Ngralth shouted. "I will toy with you puny mortals no more. Face now my unfettered fury, and know fear."

And it sounded like Ngralth had lost his temper, always a bad move. Buffy should be able to kill him quickly now.

"Potentia maxima mihi da," Ngralth said, then laughed. "I will be invincible."

"Great," Giles groaned.

The dark mists surged out of the earth, up through Ngralth's body, and out in four massive streams of shadow; one of them aimed straight at Cordelia.

The stream splattered harmlessly against the rainbow circle, dark mists oozing down an invisible shield and seeping into the ground.

"What's he doing?" Willow asked.

Pus oozed out of the mist-fouled ground as the grass crumbled away.

Deflecting Ngralth's attack with her left hand, Margo said "Abluere," aiming a thin rainbow beam at him.

"Trying to overwhelm all the protective wards by brute force," Giles said, without looking at Willow. "He's tapping the deathgate directly."

As the ground dissolved into a sea of pus the air filled with the stench of decay.

"I'm guessing that's bad?" Xander said, watching Buffy throw another stake.

Ngralth dodged, and the shadow streams briefly wobbled off-target.

Giles nodded. "Normally, magi—"

Then he paused and smiled. "Perhaps this is not quite the right time for an explanation of the fundamental principles of magic, as I understand them."

The streams started to pulse, flowing now weaker, now stronger.

"Into the middle," Giles said, pointing to the center of the rainbow circle. "Not much longer now."

As all four of them crowded into the absolute center, away from enshrouding mists, Willow asked, "Until what?"

"Ngralth isn't strong enough to control this much magic without extensive ritual," Giles said. "Even before Dame Margo crippled him, he would have struggled. Now, he has no chance. He will lose control of the magic, and it will destroy him."

"Hubris," Cordelia said dryly, to show she was listening. "Every demon's favourite hobby."

Xander smiled. "Not seeing the bad."

"He might take us with him," Giles said.

"Oh," Willow said. "The dam burst effect? But we've got protection, right?"

A chunk of rotting flesh fell off Ngralth's left arm, splashing at his feet.

"I don't know," Giles said. "That death ward will hold, but it's empowered by human sacrifice. This circle isn't. It might hold, or it might not."

"What if it fails?" Cordelia said. There had to be something they could do or Giles would have stayed silent rather than worry them.

"This cannot be!" Ngralth screamed as his right arm oozed off his bones. "It is impossible."

"We'll be bathed in necrotic magic," Giles said. "But we've got souls, which are thought to be tied into the magics of life, and the magic will be unfocused. Theoretically, if you have a strong self-image, your soul should be able to hold mind and body together until the surge ends."

"You mean, we need to believe in ourselves," Cordelia summarised.

"Impossible," Ngralth shouted as his body rotted away.

"Not quite," Giles said. "You need to know who you are."

"That all?" Buffy shouted, looking hopefully at Giles.

Willow looked briefly thoughtful, then smiled.

Ngralth's skeleton collapsed, strewing the ground with bones, and the stream targeting

"Impo—"

His bones crumbled away, silencing his rant, but the streams of dark mist did not die with him.

For a brief moment a fountain of mist was visible where Ngralth had stood, then it exploded.

"Brace yourselves," Giles said quickly.

An ever-thickening sea of dark mist filled the graveyard, the energies of undeath running wild, and the rainbow circle flared bright.

Cordelia began mentally reciting her many virtues, preparing for the worst.

The circle began to shrink, the light retreating before the advancing dark.

Somewhere distant, mustard robes laughed.

The light guttered out.

Cordelia closed her eyes, ignoring the spreading numbness of her skin. She knew what she was, beautiful, brave, and honest too; she could survive this.

All sense of her body gone, only the small spark of her mind remaining, she seemed to be no more than a pinpoint of light plunging through an endless abyss, but she knew that must be a lie. Her body must still be there, standing in that graveyard, lungs still breathing, heart still beating, as they always had and always would, though all her senses told her otherwise.

Remembering what Giles had said about self-image, Cordelia concentrated on her memories of her perfect body; the feel of a brush on her long lustrous hair, of a hand brushing her flawless skin, of cool water lapping round her toes.

Her body was part of her identity, a barrier between her soul and the world. She wouldn't let the death magics steal it from her, no matter what.

She couldn't, if Giles was right, not and remain Cordelia.

Instead she wrapped the memories round herself, imagining what she should be feeling with all her willpower, and her body came back.

The graveyard was still missing, leaving her tumbling in the void, but her body was back, in all its glory.

Cordelia quickly patted herself down, checking that everything felt right.

There were other shapes drifting in the dark; an empty tomb, a skeletal hand reaching for the earth, a skull with cold stars wheeling in the empty caverns of its eyes.

Had they been real, she might have been intimidated, but she knew they couldn't be.

Ignoring the lies, Cordelia started to imagine the graveyard back around her, then hesitated.

Giles had said she needed to concentrate on her self-image, and graveyards were no part of that. Thinking about them might be dangerous.

Instead, she concentrated on herself, remembering how great she was, how charming, how witty, how loveable.

She mustn't forget her hidden depths either. She was a natural leader, with a lion's heart, willing to-

An ebon wing sliced through the dark, and the world returned.

Cordelia turned her head sideways, and spat the dust from her mouth, then looked around.

There were no graves visible now, just bare rock strewn with bones, and over everything lay a thin blanket of metallic dust.

"Everyone OK?" Buffy asked.

"You survived that?" mustard robes said.

Buffy glared at him.

"The wisdom of the watchers runs deep," Margo replied. "We do not fear death's regard."

As Cordelia stood up, she looked at the others, and frowned.

Giles looked his normal self, Xander too, only somehow more so, but Willow looked different, prettier. Nothing was majorly different, Willow was still recognisably herself, but there had been dozens of slight changes to her face, each subtly enhancing her appearance.

Beyond the gate, mustard robes was still stood in the same spot, unable to defy Margo's command, but black robes appeared to have run off with the pram.

"Willow," Giles said sternly, "that was not a good idea."

Willow looked at her hands, and smiled. "It worked."

"What wasn't?" Xander said. "What happened?"

"We were touched by Death itself, Mr Alexander," Margo said, walking with Buffy towards Giles. "There's not been many as could say that, only a few dozen in all the long annals of the board."

Margo still had her disguise on, making it impossible to tell if she'd changed at all, but Buffy looked normal enough. Her dress, though, was pristine, all the blood and pus that it had been soaked in gone. Something had definitely happened.

"Death, dame?" Xander said, giving Willow a concerned look. "Is it, um—"

"Death is not our enemy," Margo said.

"It's just misunderstood, dame," Cordelia said sharply, wondering just how close she'd been. Margo might be able to blithely dismiss death, but she was old, with weird ideas. Cordelia was still young, too young to die.

"Madam," mustard robes said nervously, "can we come to some arrangement quickly?"

"Tha's young, Mistress Cordelia." Margo said, smiling. "I'll excuse tha ignorance, and Mistress Willow's."

"Me?" Willow said.

"Leave them alone," Buffy said. "They've been through enough tonight, because of you."

"Doesn't tha think tha friend ought to know what damage she may have done her self?" Margo asked, looking straight at Buffy.

Buffy twitched, and looked away.

"The rest of us were only lightly touched," Margo said, "with what precise effects I can't say, this not being a topic I have studied in any great depth, but they'll be subtle. Mistress Willow though, opened her soul to Death. For her the consequences will be more serious. I can't say owt for certain, but I believe it will involve the slow manifestation of uncomfortable affinities."

Willow stared at her feet, mumbling something under her breath.

"Vague, much?" Cordelia said. "Can't you tell us anything useful, dame?"

"Not without several months of research in the Board's library," Margo said.

"Dame Margo, if you didn't know what damage the necrotic surge might do," Giles said. "Why did you subject my slayer to that unknown risk?"

"If you look that way," Margo said, pointing at the gate, "you should be able to see them coming now."

Cordelia looked; three demons and a dozen vampires, at the far end of Stevenson Street. The vampires didn't look like anything special, and the demon's were only average, but if they'd arrived in time to join the fight it would not have been good.

Still, that would have been better than what actually happened. At least then she'd have known what kind of danger she was in.

Best of all, of course, would have not to have gone near Ngralth in the first place. Certainly, he'd needed killing, but Margo hadn't needed to drag Cordelia along for that. She'd barely needed Buffy. No, Margo should have left everyone else out of her grudge match.

In fact, there were a lot of things Margo should have done, starting with sticking to a single objective. She could test how good Buffy's friends were, the way she had claimed she wanted to do, or she could hunt down the big bads. She couldn't do both.

Cordelia smiled confidently. The night would have gone a lot more smoothly if Margo had had the humility to recognise Cordelia's superior talents, and taken her advice.

"Madam," mustard robes said. "If you do not lift your geas you will be responsible for my death."

"Good," Buffy said.

"No," Margo said. "We don't kill people, however vile. Mr Giles, explain to them what Mistress Willow has done. I will pass sentence on this traitor."

"Willow," Giles said, as Margo walked over to the gate. "What were you thinking?"

"It seemed like such a good idea," Willow said quietly, "and it did work. You said we needed to know who we were, but no one really does. Our self-images are always airbrushed. Since, from what you said, that wouldn't hurt, or you'd have given different advice, any small errors in our self-image couldn't matter either."

"Not if they were accidental," Giles said. "Intent matters."

"You didn't say that," Willow complained. "And my intentions weren't bad. What the consequences of small directed changes, ones not big enough to endanger me, might be was an obvious question to ask, with two obvious answers. It might have been that nothing would happen, but that was the less plausible option because there had to be some transition zone between no change and failure, or it might have been that we would become what we imagined ourselves to be, opening possibilities worth taking a risk for. Like you said, Buffy, seize the day."

"I didn't mean like—" Buffy hesitated. "Whatever you did."

"Mind over matter," Giles said. "This place was so saturated in necrotic magic no skill was needed to wield it. When Willow imagined herself better the magic made her imaginings real."

So Willow had exposed herself to weird mystical forces just to make herself prettier?

With Willow's looks, it wasn't surprising she'd been tempted, but she hadn't achieved much, no more than a good beautician might in a week, which wasn't enough of an improvement to be worth that kind of risk.

Willow should have just asked Cordelia's advice.

"You didn't need to do that," Xander said softly. "You already looked fine."

"I didn't do this for looks," Willow said sharply. "That was just so I could see straight off if it had worked. What I was concentrating on was being cleverer."

Not good. If that really had worked Willow would be harder to keep secrets from.

"You didn't need to do that either," Xander said, sounding fondly exasperated.

"Traitor," Margo said. "Is tha willing to accept tha guilt."

"I did nothing wrong, madam," mustard robes said. "I saved lives. It was my ward that confined the necrotic surge to this graveyard. Without it, thousands would have died, or become abominations."

"Irrelevant," Margo said. "Human sacrifice is never acceptable."

"It was for the gr-gr—"

"Lieing to me is not advisable," Margo said. "I hereby judge tha motives were as foul as tha deeds."

"We do have courts in this country, madam," mustard robes said. "You have no moral right to usurp their place."

"Do not think to argue morality with me, traitor," Margo said. "It is both my right and my duty to judge such crimes as tha's."

Mustard robes looked over his shoulder at the approaching demons, now just two hundred yards away. "Then do your worst, madam, but don't make me stay here."

"For your crimes past," Margo said, her faked accent fading, "these three dooms I lay upon you: no word you shall speak that is not true, no spell you shall cast that is not white, no joy you shall feel that is not pure."

Then Margo lifted her hand, and the earth spoke.

"No word you shall speak that is not true. No spell you shall cast that is not white. No joy you shall feel that is not pure."

Margo looked up, and the sky replied.

"No word you shall speak that is not true. No spell you shall cast that is not white. No joy you shall feel that is not pure."

"As it has been decreed, so shall it be," Margo said, bowing her head in apparent humility. "You will leave here, traitor."

Mustard robes immediately ran off, limping slightly as he darted down the first alley.

"You're letting him go?" Xander said. "He'll kill again, dame."

"Mayhap," Margo said, her accent back, "but he hasn't yet. We can not punish people for what we think they are going to do, only for what we know they have done, and for that he has been fully punished."

Inconvenienced, certainly, but it wasn't enough, not for what he'd done. Mustard robes deserved to suffer.

"Anyroad," Margo said, "as I read the prophecies, he'll be dead within the year, by his own hand."

"Not soon enough," Buffy said. "He killed a baby."

Margo nodded. "I'd gladly dance on his grave, but I will not kill people. We only kill demons, like those."

Margo pointed at the approaching demons and vampires, now fifty yards away and moving fast.

Cordelia stepped back, behind Buffy. They must be complete idiots, attacking after the display Margo had put on, which would make them easier to kill, but she still didn't want to be in the front line.

"Go, do your duty," Margo said.

Buffy scowled at her, then charged the oncoming demons.

* * *

"I'm not sleeping here," Cordelia said, fifty minutes later.

"You can sleep over with me," Xander said gently.

Cordelia nodded. Even Xander's house would be better than sleeping in there, with those things underneath her.

"That might not be entirely appropriate," Margo said. "Mr Giles should be able to accommodate you for one night."

"One night?" Cordelia said. "I'm never sleeping here again."

"We must consider Mr Giles's reputation, Mistress Cordelia."

"Cordelia's mental well-being is more important, Dame Margo," Giles said. "We can't expect her to sleep there."

"Tomorrow, tha'll not be able to see owt untoward," Margo said.

"But I'll still know it's there," Cordelia said. "I'm not sleeping here ever again."

"Can't we kill it?" Buffy said. "Do your rainbow thing."

"It's too powerful," Margo said, looking down at the shapes, coiled below the foundations of Cordelia's house. "All I could do, unaided, is wake it up."

"It?" Willow said. "Don't you mean them? Look, there's one head there, one there, one over there—"

"Look deeper, Mistress Willow," Margo said.

Cordelia looked more carefully. There were five heads down there, each one half the size of her house, their necks entwined round each other, merging into each other deep under the centre of the block.

"A hydra?" Willow suggested. "Another escapee from the death gate, dame?"

"Those wards strongly suggest it has been here somewhat longer than that," Margo said. "And do remember what the death sight shows is a highly symbolic representation."

"How much longer?" Cordelia said. "How long has that thing been under my house?"

"Almost certainly since before the house was built," Margo said. "Tha does recall what I told thi about such wards?"

Cordelia quickly nodded, looking at the ward; another baby's ghost wrapped in chains, its face contorted in agony, but two of these chains stretched across the block, linking this ghost with the others she could dimly see in a large pentagram.

Knowing that ghost was right outside her bedroom window would have been enough to keep her awake, even without the creature beneath the house.

"The bodies must be buried near the site of the sacrifice," Cordelia said. If the body was put anywhere else, the ghost would be forced to wander the earth in eternal torment, unless it was buried in holy ground. Do that, and the spell would be broken, freeing the ghost.

They'd be able to do that for mustard robe's victim soon. He'd managed to hide the body, but he'd have to bury it under the gateway within a few days, if he didn't want to be haunted, and when he did Giles would be able to dig it back up and give it a proper funeral.

"They could have done that any time," Xander said. "These are big gardens."

"Not close enough," Margo said. "In cases like this, the bodies are always entombed in the walls."

"But that's my bedroom," Cordelia said, growing pale. "Are you saying I've got a baby in my bedroom wall?"

"Apparently so," Margo said.

Feeling unsteady, Cordelia grabbed at Xander's shoulder. "Get it out."

Xander looked surprised, but started mumbling reassurances.

Buffy smiled. "You can sleep over with me tonight. I've got a big tub of chocolate ice cream."

"If I did that," Margo said, "the seal would fail. There is nowt in my armoury that would be an adequate replacement."

"There must be some alternative, dame," Willow said. "They must have kept that imprisoned some other way before these houses were built."

"It is not imprisoned," Margo said. "These wards are not strong enough to achieve that. It is sleeping."

"Then what are the wards for, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

"Without them, that creature's aura would taint the minds of all this town, Mr Giles," Margo said. "How long has Mistress Cordelia lived here?"

"All my life," Cordelia said, straightening herself up and moving away from Xander. This was an unpleasant end to a long night, but not so bad she needed anyone's help.

Margo frowned. "Then, without this seal she would now be, at best, arrogant to the point of madness, with an unquenchable thirst for power. That she is instead heroic shows the seal's effectiveness."

Willow looked thoughtfully at Cordelia, but said nothing.

Buffy frowned, then whispered something in Xander's ear.

"Do you recognise the creature, Dame Margo?" Giles asked. "I regret to say I can't."

"I'm afraid I can't either, Mr Giles," Margo admitted. "I can only tell that it is an Old One of godly stature, and sleeping lightly."

"Could the creation of the deathgate have disturbed it, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

"No, Mr Giles," Margo said, "those wards shield that creature from any external influence. Even if tha were to rip open both the hellmouth and the deathgate its slumber would be undisturbed. The only way to wake it up would be to bring a powerful focus of malign magic within the wards."

Xander whispered something in Buffy's ear.

"A cursed object?" Willow said. "Won't there be a lot of those here, because of the hellmouth, dame?"

"Powerfully cursed or deeply evil," Margo corrected. "A portable hellmouth would be sufficient, or a dark god, but little else. Even in this town, tha could go a thousand years without seeing such."

"What about Parandol?" Cordelia asked. That would explain why they wanted ownership of the houses badly enough to make that ludicrously generous offer.

"Ownership would convey a degree of authority," Margo said, "but not sufficient to remove those wards. Still, we can not permit parties of uncertain allegiance any influence here. I will arrange for agents of the board will take the appropriate action."

"There's nothing you can do tonight?" Buffy asked.

"No," Margo said. "We'll need to research the history first, see if we can identify that creature. Then it may take several more months to uncover an effective countermeasure."

"I'm not sleeping there until you do," Cordelia said. Awake, she might be able to escape if the creature stirred. Asleep, she'd have no chance.

Buffy nodded. "You can stay with me."

"I believe tha mother might have summat to say about that," Margo said. "Mistress Cordelia's parents might not be too pleased either."

"She's not going to sleep here, with that thing under her bed," Buffy said, glaring at Margo.

"We don't have to decide everything now," Giles quickly said. "Cordelia, what do you want to do tonight?"

"Buffy," Cordelia said. She couldn't stay with her long, their families would cause too much trouble, but a few nights should be enough to make alternative arrangements, and a bonding experience with Buffy could prove useful.

Buffy smiled triumphantly at Margo.

Xander smiled too, his eyes unfocused, then he shook himself. "You'll need some night things, won't you?"

"She can borrow mine," Buffy said.

"Won't fit," Cordelia said, looking at the house, "and I'll need clothes for tomorrow too. I'll have to go inside."

It was either that, or get stuck wearing one of Buffy's fashion disasters.

Cordelia walked slowly up to her gate, then took a deep breath. The horror below was asleep. It wouldn't hurt her. She could do this.

Cordelia inched her gate open.

"I'll help you carry stuff," Willow said, stepping up besides her.

"Me too," Xander said.

Willow smiled. "You can carry her school stuff."

Buffy started to speak, but Margo interrupted. "Buffy will stay here, in case we're attacked."

"What about us?" Xander protested.

"Owt as could attack tha inside those wards could steamroller Buffy," Margo said. "Go, help tha friend, and don't take too long. Tha can always come back later."

"Giles—" Buffy said.

"If Buffy leaves me alone with you, Dame Margo," Giles said, "I'm sure we'll manage."

"I'll stay," Buffy immediately said, quite rightly. With her there it would be harder for Margo to pressure Giles.

Her friends at either side, Cordelia pushed open the gate and walked up her own drive, almost without hesitation.


	14. Cordelia's Ghost: Plans and promises

"Morning," Cordelia said casually, walking into Buffy's kitchen.

That should set the right note for this encounter.

Buffy's mom —no, Joyce; thinking of her as Buffy's mom would make this harder— looked up, startled. "Who are you?"

"Cordelia Chase."

"Cordelia," Joyce said, looking uncertain. "I didn't hear the doorbell."

"I slept over," Cordelia said, then smiled brightly. "Buffy's such a saint."

"She is," Joyce said slowly, almost questioningly. "She didn't say anything."

"About me?" Cordelia suggested, smiling inwardly. Everything was going as she'd planned.

"No," Joyce quickly said. "About—"

"What did she say about me?" Cordelia said, to keep her opponent unbalanced. "Nice stuff?"

Joyce stared at Cordelia, clearly struggling for words.

Good. While she was like this, she wouldn't be asking awkward questions, giving Cordelia the perfect chance to spin her story, and it did need spinning.

Cordelia certainly couldn't tell Joyce the whole truth, but if she'd walked into the kitchen unprepared, the way Buffy had been going to, she'd have ended up fumbling for excuses, making Joyce suspicious of them both, and making people suspicious was always a bad idea.

No, any sensible person would have their excuses prepared in advance, as Cordelia had. If they were really good with people, like Cordelia, they'd be able to plan the entire conversation in advance.

Buffy had agreed, of course, once she'd woken up enough to understand what Cordelia was saying, and stopped whining about the time. Seven-forty wasn't that early.

"You're the cheerleader?" Joyce said hesitantly.

Cordelia nodded. "It was a last minute decision."

"Cheerlea—" Joyce said. "Oh."

"So what did she say?" Cordelia asked, switching back to the original topic for extra confusion.

Even when this conversation was over, and Joyce was able to think clearly again, she still wouldn't ask awkward questions, or think about checking Cordelia's story with her family. Instead, she'd be thinking about Cordelia, and what good taste Buffy had in friends, while Cordelia's excuses went unexamined.

Cordelia hadn't told Buffy that though, just given her a vague sketch of the plan and made sure she knew the story. Buffy didn't need to know how good Cordelia was at this.

"Nothing bad," Joyce eventually said.

Cordelia smiled then poured herself a cup of coffee, without asking permission, a display of self-confidence that would help keep Joyce off-balance. It would make a useful prop too.

Somewhere upstairs a door banged, a minute earlier than Cordelia had planned but she could work round that.

"The atmosphere at my house was distinctly unfriendly last night," Cordelia said.

"Family problems?" Joyce said gently.

"It's a long story," Cordelia said, shrugging, then she smiled. "Buffy's been so good about it."

"She has?" Joyce said. "What problems?"

Buffy walked into the kitchen.

"Coffee?" Cordelia suggested, then looked at Joyce. "You know how sweet and kind Buffy is."

Clearly startled, Joyce nodded, as Cordelia had known she would. There might be a few mothers who wouldn't hesitate to criticise their own daughters to their face while their friends watched, but Joyce liked her daughter too much to hurt her that way.

"You're talking about me?" Buffy said, yawning.

"Just telling your mom what a good friend you are," Cordelia said, then looked back at Joyce. "I know she doesn't like to brag about her good deeds."

All technically true yet misleading. Buffy didn't really deserve such compliments, but they'd help keep Joyce from thinking about more sensitive topics.

Buffy smiled unconvincingly. "You don't mind, do you?"

Before Joyce could answer, Cordelia stared into her cup and quietly said, "Private problems."

"No," Joyce said absent-mindedly, "What kind of problems?"

Sipping her coffee, Cordelia thought about all the unpleasant things she'd seen last night; hideous demons, human sacrifice, and the horror buried beneath her house, letting the memories of fear show on her face, then looked straight at Joyce.

Joyce stared at Cordelia, shock giving way to pity.

"I don't want to talk about my mother," Cordelia said, her voice clotted with old pain.

"You can stay here as long as you like," Joyce said, "any time you like."

Cordelia looked back into her cup, careful not to let any trace of her triumph show. Even if Joyce did try asking discreet questions people would just assume she was talking about the episodes. The answers she got would be vague enough that Joyce could read almost anything into them.

"Thanks," Cordelia said, her voice still pained.

"Is there anything else—" Joyce began.

"No," Cordelia said firmly, then half-heartedly pointed at the kitchen door. "You'll want to talk to Buffy."

"I will?" Joyce said, "But—"

Cordelia looked at her.

"Oh," Joyce said. "Are you sure?"

"You may go," Cordelia said, smiling wanly. "I won't mind."

Permission granted, Joyce pulled Buffy out of their kitchen.

Cordelia waited until she was sure they were both gone, then let her smile show. As long as Buffy didn't completely fluff her lines this house was hers, whenever she needed it.

She wouldn't be able to stay here long term though; the rooms were too small, and the furniture belonged on the dump. Joyce, too, would soon become a problem. After a few days she'd inevitably start trying to parent Cordelia, which would be intolerable.

No, a few days a month here would be as much as Cordelia could stand. The rest of the time, she could stay with the other Scoobies, or with Giles, or in a hotel.

Cordelia frowned. All those options had their own problems. Their parents would ask questions, Giles would ask intelligent questions, and her dad would query the credit card bill.

Perhaps she would have to go back home, despite what she'd seen.

Cordelia looked thoughtfully round the kitchen. The deathsight had gone now; all the necromantic residues fouling Buffy's house were invisible, but they were still real, the legacy of some previous owner's experiments.

Naturally, Buffy's house had been the best, least touched by the hellmouth. Xander had had two ghosts in his house, until Margo exorcised them, and at Willow's house Buffy had had to destroy some giant spirit spiders, ugly creatures which, according to Margo, hunted in the dreams of men. Willow and her mom had apparently been safe enough, but it would take years for her dad to recover from his spiritual injuries.

Their houses hadn't been atypical either. Over a third of the houses they'd passed had been similarly infested with dark magic or undead creatures; something Cordelia would have been much happier not knowing.

Now, she knew, and could never forget.

She couldn't run away either. If she let the hellmouth drive her out of town, it would have won.

She could try fighting more, but that was what Margo wanted, and it would make it harder for her to stay popular. She was already spending more time helping Buffy than she could really spare, because of all the crises.

In fact, neither Buffy nor any of her other friends had any time to spare. Ever since Cordelia had made her wish, the demons and monsters had never really stopped coming, leaving them all much too busy to go hunting down creatures that weren't an immediate threat. They'd just have to ignore most of what they'd seen, and learn to live with the knowledge it was there.

Most of what they'd seen, but not all. There was no way she could ignore the thing under her house. She would have to run away, or fight.

Fighting would be difficult, but so would running. She'd end up a refugee in her own town, living off Buffy's friends' charity, waiting for the creature to wake and devour her parents. Worst of all, she'd always know she'd lost, driven out of her own home by some overgrown prehistoric monstrosity.

The creature had to go.

Not right this minute, of course. Going straight home and trying to kill it wouldn't achieve anything, and she might be unlucky enough to wake it.

She'd need to look through Giles's books first, and her own; find some loophole that would let Buffy kill it, preferably without too much property damage. It might take a few days, even a few weeks, but waiting wouldn't be a problem, not when she knew she'd soon be returning home in triumph.

Cordelia smiled into her cup, imagining her victory.

* * *

"Enjoy yourself last night," Harmony said, opening her locker, "with all your weird new friends?"

Not good timing. There were too many people on the corridor for sensitive conversations, and Harmony had as much to lose as Cordelia.

Cordelia looked sideways at Harmony, then smiled. "Hypocritical much?"

Harmony was wearing a floor length skirt and one of her dad's shirts, buttoned to the neck, an outfit as out of place on Harmony as skin-tight leather would be on Willow.

She must still be scared of Margo.

"I'm normal," Harmony said, tugging at her collar.

Three of the girls walking past looked at Harmony, and started giggling.

"Strange," Cordelia said. "You don't look normal."

Harmony scowled. "This is your fault."

"How?" Cordelia asked, "I didn't make you wear that thing."

"You let that person do this to me."

"I am not Canute," Cordelia said firmly. She was good with people, but Margo was slightly better, too good to stop, and besides, the way Harmony had been acting lately she didn't deserve Cordelia's help.

Two boys walked past, then looked over their shoulders at Harmony.

"You are Cordelia Chase," Harmony said, "supposedly. You should be protecting your real friends, not hanging with the losers."

"I am," Cordelia said simply, "and I don't."

Harmony smiled. "That's not what they're saying."

Giles walked past the far end of the corridor, then turned, heading towards Cordelia.

"You know better," Cordelia said, "Or have you forgotten Wednesday? The science lesson?"

"None of our business," Harmony said. "You should leave the weird stuff to the weird people, and look after yourself, or your social life will flatline."

It might suffer a little, but that was better than dying, or watching others die, and she'd soon be able to recover any lost status, once the stream of crises slowed. She couldn't tell Harmony that now though, not where anyone might overhear.

Instead Cordelia smiled. "Weird people? Like you?"

Giles nodded amiably as he strolled past Cordelia, his hand gently brushing her open palm, but he didn't stop.

Feeling something feather-light still touching her hand, Cordelia curled her fingers round it.

Paper. Must be a note.

Oblivious, Harmony looked at the passing crowds, then snatched her books from her locker, sending a piece of paper fluttering to the floor.

"I don't have any choice," Harmony whispered sharply. "When I tried dressing normally it felt exposed, like I was in my underwear. I couldn't bring myself to leave the house until I was properly covered, all because of you."

Cordelia thought quickly as she bent down for the paper. Demons didn't care about modesty, but Margo did, enough to make Harmony promise to dress like a nun. She must have found someway to enforce that promise.

Understandable, Harmony had been especially irritating since the morgue, but excessive. OK, so she'd insulted Cordelia and Buffy. That only deserved a few days humiliation, not a lifetime.

Cordelia snatched up the paper, cream-coloured and covered in elegant calligraphy. Persuading Margo to back down would be difficult, even for Cordelia. Better to wait until she was gone, then let Giles cure Harmony. Waiting wouldn't hurt Harmony, much. A few days as a laughingstock might even do her some good.

"Dame Margo can be a little zealous," Cordelia said. "Wait a few days and I'll put it right."

"If you weren't wasting time on the weirdness, nothing would have gone wrong."

All completely false, but a denial wouldn't get Cordelia anywhere. She glanced at the passing crowds, then decided to change the subject. She could always deal with Harmony's strange ideas later.

"Practising your handwriting?" Cordelia said, looking at the calligraphy. The letters were beautiful, but they were also in alphabetical order; a few dozen a's, several b's, slightly more c's.

Cordelia frowned and skimmed the rest of the sheet. There were lots of e's and t's but no q's or z's, and only one j, a familiar-feeling distribution of letters quite unlike what Cordelia would have expected from handwriting exercises, which Harmony was unlikely to keep in her locker anyway.

"I don't need to practice," Harmony said, snatching the sheet from Cordelia, then she glanced at it, and her face filled with surprise.

For a few seconds Harmony stood there, looking closely at the sheet, almost as if she were reading it, then she smiled.

"Good news?" Cordelia said speculatively. A coded message was the most obvious explanation of Harmony's reaction, though how she could have managed to read it Cordelia had no idea.

"Slow reader?" Harmony said, smiling more broadly. "I'm not going to waste any more time on you. I've got lessons to go to."

Then she swiftly turned round and strode down the corridor, heading away from her next class.

Odd, but it was only Harmony. Cordelia had more important problems. She unfolded the note Giles had slipped her, and quickly read it.

"Science lab — ceiling. Five minutes. Co-ordination. Important."

Short notice, but if Giles said it was important it must be, and she wouldn't be missing much.

* * *

Three minutes later, Cordelia stepped into the new science lab and looked around.

All the wreckage from their fight with the witch had been cleared away, leaving only a few burnt patches on the floor, but the replacement furniture hadn't arrived yet, so there was only one place Giles could be hiding.

"Expecting me?" Cordelia said, carefully peering behind the door.

Looking relieved, Giles nodded, then swiftly closed the door and locked it.

Cordelia frowned. There was a lump of clay stuck on the wall behind the door, with a few feathers in it, much like the ward things Margo kept using to guarantee her privacy.

Cordelia pointed silently at the lump. "Who are we hiding from? Her?"

"No names, and yes," Giles said, confirming Cordelia's guess without her needing to ask any explicit questions.

"She's planning to come here," Cordelia said, drawing the obvious conclusion from the ward's presence.

"Apparently, but it won't be soon," Giles said, answering Cordelia's implicit question. "I left her talking to Willow and Xander. We should be safe from all eavesdropping, provided we avoid attracting her attention."

"Could be an interesting conversation," Cordelia said warily, thinking of what could go wrong.

Giles smiled. "She doesn't have the right keys."

"How good is she at picking locks?"

"What would work on one would set off the other's alarms. If we left them together for hours, perhaps, but fifteen minutes should be safe."

"It should," Cordelia said grudgingly, though she'd need to talk to them later, make sure they hadn't been manoeuvred into any rash promises. "You know what happened to Harmony?"

"Yesterday?" Giles said, sounding mildly curious "I don't believe they've met today."

"She's made Harmony keep her promise. If she doesn't, she feels undressed."

"What?" Giles snapped. "That's against all our principles. Any attempt to control the mind of another is grounds for instant termination."

Giles paused, thoughtfully nudging his glasses. "She'll probably claim Harmony did it to herself, but she didn't know her promise would bind her. Our friend might not think much to that, she's always believed in the importance of keeping one's word, but the council will see matters differently."

Then Giles scowled. "Would have seen. I'll have to appeal to the board, and Sunday might be a complication. If they move too slowly I'll find some way to release Harmony myself."

About what Cordelia had expected. Harmony would have an uncomfortable few days, just as she deserved, and no more.

Cordelia couldn't say that though, her stoicism would be too easy to misinterpret, but she needed to say something, or Giles would waste time being sympathetic about Harmony's predicament.

"OK," Cordelia said, with her best world-weary shrug, letting him know it was safe to change the subject without being accused of callousness.

Giles glanced at his watch. "We need to talk about the zoo."

"What about it? Xander can't get possessed now, none of us can, so no problem."

"So I initially thought," Giles said, which meant it wasn't true.

Cordelia suppressed a scowl. They'd only had one piece of good news last night, and now it seemed even that had a catch, but what? Any demon that saw her memories of nightmare would flee from her head.

After a few seconds thought, Cordelia spotted the loophole. They'd flee, if they could, and only if they saw her memories.

"Many potential possessors would be unable to leave at will, including the hyena spirits," Giles said, confirming Cordelia's conclusions, "and—"

"Many others wouldn't be able to see our memories," Cordelia said. "Amy's mom couldn't."

If she been able to, she'd have done better at imitating Amy.

Giles nodded. "Unfortunately, the hyena spirits can, and they lack your resilience. Faced with the memories you bear, but unable to escape, they would succumb to madness, leaving you with an insane hyena trapped within your mind. The consequences are unlikely to be pleasant."

Cordelia nodded. "Then we'll stick to the original plan."

"We need to make allowances for our visitor," Giles said. "Or we could simply tell her what we know."

"Do you want to?" Cordelia asked, marshalling her arguments for secrecy.

"No," Giles said, "but if she discovers we are concealing this from her she will not be pleased. Are you sure you want to take that risk?"

So Giles was testing her commitment, a sensible precaution. If Cordelia buckled under Margo's covert interrogation Giles might die.

"Yes," Cordelia said, with all the conviction she could muster. "If she finds out, she'll want to take over."

Margo herself might be dead in a few days, but her plans would not die with her, not when she had devoted followers like the Bodsworths. If Margo found out this secret, her followers would be blackmailing Cordelia forever, trying to force her to do things Margo's way.

Giles frowned. "Might not that be for the best? Anything I can do—"

"She can't do better." Cordelia said. "She's forgotten how to deal with normal people."

Giles smiled. "I understand they are rather rare in her circles."

"They aren't in my circle," Cordelia said. "We're all normal people," compared with Margo, anyway.

"So you think she would not use your insights well?" Giles asked, a leading question, but then Giles was trying to convince her she needed to keep her foreknowledge secret, proof of his own commitment.

Cordelia nodded. "Tell her everything, and she'll want to dictate the course of your romance, and mine. She'll leave her followers instructions to interfere."

With a motive that strong Giles wouldn't be able to doubt her sincerity.

"No unnecessary details please," Giles reminded her, then frowned. "It is nearly a century since she went courting, and she didn't get her man. I suspect her advice would not help us."

"It wouldn't," Cordelia said firmly. "You've got all the esoteric knowledge we need, and I know the people involved. We don't need anyone else."

"Indeed not," Giles said, sounding satisfied. "In that case, we need to make sure our stories cohere. If there are discrepancies, or if we seem too lucky, she will be on us."

"What do you suggest?" Cordelia said, ceding priority to Giles. Normally, she'd have preferred to go first, making it easier to get her plans adopted, but listening to Giles explain his plans would be a good opportunity to spot his real motives for secrecy, knowing which would make it easier to manipulate him in future.

"First," Giles began, "You should ..."

* * *

"You're having lunch with them again?" Aura said, scowling at Xander and the others.

"Jealous?" Cordelia suggested.

Aura looked briefly calculating. "You do know what Harmony's saying?"

Cordelia smiled. "Remember last year? The watch?"

Xander started to speak, but Buffy nudged him into silence.

"I should never have believed her," Aura said, half smiling, then frowned, "but she's changed."

"So, of course, now you believe her," Cordelia said scornfully

"I—" Aura began, then looked at Buffy, "haven't decided yet."

Cordelia looked sternly at Aura. "Harmony is wrong."

Aura stepped back. "Got to go."

Cordelia watched as Aura scurried down the corridor, thinking. If Aura was willing to expose herself like that Harmony's whispering campaign must be working; not good. She'd have to spend some time with them soon, reassure them that she hadn't gone weird.

"What is Harmony saying?" Willow asked, smiling faintly as the group began walking to the library.

"Nothing important," Cordelia said, then looked at the folder Willow was carrying. "More homework for Margo?"

Willow had already given Margo one folder full of papers that morning, explaining how outdated her ideas of proper diet were, surprisingly brave of her. If Margo spotted any errors in Willow's reasoning, Willow would be in deep trouble, and Margo was more than clever enough to do exactly that.

"Newspaper cuttings," Willow said, "about your house, and what was there before."

"A big mansion," Cordelia said, remembering some old photos, "covered the whole block."

Willow nodded. "Burnt to the ground ninety years ago, no survivors. They started building your house the next day."

Suspiciously fast. Someone must have known what lay beneath, someone who should now be long dead, but the spell they had used during her house's construction, Cordelia had seen used last night, raising unpleasant possibilities.

Willow hesitated outside the library doors. "The paper doesn't say what started the fire, but it doesn't sound like an accident."

Buffy shrugged. "Someone trying to kill the creature."

"Or stop it from escaping," Willow said. "There are hints they knew something bad was active there, strong hints."

"Don't worry about it," Xander said gently. "You'll never have to sleep there again. Our houses are yours."

Buffy twitched. "Until we kill the creature. Then you can go home."

"Me? Worry?" Cordelia said lightly, then looked at Willow. "Would squid fit with your dietary advice?"

Willow smiled. "It might."

"Shall we see?" Cordelia said, pushing open the door.

* * *

Ten minutes later Cordelia looked at her plate, piled high with pasta, and frowned. This was not an improvement.

"Hasta Augustissima," Margo said, "are you sure you wish to burden yourself with this dark knowledge?"

Buffy nodded. "She's my friend."

Margo glanced at Giles. "May I presume you would tell her no matter what strictures I laid upon you, Mr Giles?"

"I will, Dame Margo," Giles said, "if my will remains free. Does not my duty to my slayer outweigh all other considerations?"

"All save the oaths, Mr Giles," Margo said, then smiled. "If she must hear this, better that she hear it firsthand. Mistress Willow, would you tell Mr Giles what you have learned of the site of Mistress Cordelia's home?"

Willow quickly swallowed. "Her house was built ninety years ago, on the site of the Delapoor mansion, dame. That—"

"Delapoor?" Giles said, letting his fork drop. "Are you sure?"

Willow nodded.

"Mistress Willow," Margo said, the faintest traces of concern in her voice, "did you find any record of suspicious incidents near that house?"

"Nothing explicit, dame, but people knew something was wrong there. I'm not sure if this is linked but, the day before the fire, an entire family living nearby disappeared. The paper implied that had happened before, near there, and—"

"Evidence enough," Margo said, then looked at Giles. "It would seem the council was remiss in its duty, Mr Giles."

"Indeed, it does, Dame Margo," Giles said, "when you were among its rising stars."

Cordelia groaned inwardly. Back to the watcher politics, again.

"I was still young in those days, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Responsibility for this failure can only lie with the then head of the council, the late Mr Creswick, for whom I never much cared."

Xander and Willow both looked at Cordelia, but she discreetly shook her head. She'd intervened in the last argument. It was Xander's turn now.

Giles smiled. "How embarrassing for the High Purples, Dame Margo, and for the Eagles."

Xander looked at Buffy, who frowned faintly, then he half-nodded in acknowledgement.

Margo nodded smugly. "It supplies further confirmation of the needs we discussed, Mr Giles."

"I wouldn't go quite that far," Giles said quickly. "Dame Margo."

"Subtitles please, Giles," Xander said, smiling. "Who's this Delapoor?"

"A child-torturing demon-worshipping mass-murdering rapist and cannibal. All that family were," Giles said, scowling. "And those are just the crimes we can be certain of. Each Delapoor also had their own individual vices—"

"Which are not entirely suitable for discussion whilst eating, Mr Giles," Margo said, looking at Buffy.

"Perhaps not in detail, Dame Margo," Giles said, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

"Only the cannibalism matters, Mr Giles. That was the central sacrament of their family cult; everything else, mere indulgance of their twisted lusts."

Then why weren't there any ghosts? Violent deaths meant ghosts, everyone knew that, but she hadn't seen any there last night. Either the creature must be freer than Margo had implied, free enough to eat the ghosts, or someone had exorcised them all, most likely the person who had decided to build Cordelia's house there.

"Anyway," Giles said, "when the council discovered the extent of their evil, we destroyed their castle and executed all the Delapoors we could find."

"All of them?" Willow said. "What about the children."

"All of them," Giles said flatly, "We did try fostering the youngest child. At the first opportunity she flayed the family dog alive, raised its corpse as a zombie, and, um, performed unnatural acts with it."

Buffy put down her fork. "A child did that? You mean a teenager, right?"

"Jane de la Poer," Margo said, clearly enunciating the spaces, "was only four years old."

"Four, dame?" Cordelia said. A child that age wanting to kill wasn't surprising, they were too young to understand that other people sometimes mattered, but where had she found the physical strength and magical power?

"There were no innocents in Anchester Castle, Mistress Cordelia."

Cordelia smiled. "No servants, dame?"

"There were slaves," Margo said. "For them, death was a mercy."

"They must have been like that a long time if all the family were bad," Willow said thoughtfully, "at least three generations."

"Longer," Giles said. "The rumours started not long after Gilbert de la Poer was ennobled, over three hundred years before the council acted."

"Nor were they new to vice then," Margo said. "It was not for his skill at arms that King Stephen knighted Henry de la Poer a century earlier. The name itself can not be traced back beyond that date, but evidence found in their castle suggested the family cult was already millennia old."

"Why didn't you catch them earlier, dame?" Willow said, twirling her fork in the pasta.

"We erred, Mistress Willow," Margo admitted. "We thought they were a purely human evil. As such, they would be outside our jurisdiction. Were we to arrogate to ourselves power to judge the crimes of men against men we would surely soon become sorcerous tyrants, imposing our cruel whims on all mankind with the force of natural law."

That made some sense, let Margo loose and she'd probably make short skirts illegal, enforcing her whim with magic as she had on Harmony, but human lives were more important than principles. The watchers should have tried to stop the Delapoors earlier, even if they didn't know the family was using black magic.

"We were naive," Margo said. "In those days the council thought no human could stoop so low. We were wrong, terribly wrong."

"Once we realised there might be more than to the rumours than peasant grumbling we sent in the slayer to investigate," Giles said, then looked at Margo. "Dame Margo, I must confess to some curiousity as to why the board, with all its much vaunted wisdom, did not act sooner."

Margo glared at Giles, who looked down at his plate. "Mr Giles, the board was aware of the possibility, but it can not watch every sparrow fall. We battle with the greater evils of this world. The lesser, it is the council's responsibility to find, and to fight."

"Lesser evils, Dame Margo?" Giles said. "You consider atrocities—"

"Mr Giles, the gate of ivory is assailed by the nameless," Margo said. "Already, the dreams that enter through it are tainted. Should it succeed, it would be able to consume the souls of all mankind in a single night of terror. The shadow of the lord of fetters ever gnaws at this world, a taint on all matter condemning it to a spiral of decay, ending in the utter ruination of all things temporal, and with each little victory that dread lord grows stronger; the day of his return, nearer. Midnight Walking — but, were I to name all the greater evils that trouble this benighted world, each incomparably more vile than ever the de la Poers were, we would still be here come nightfall. Suffice it to say, you should not mistake your small part of the battle for the whole, nor think the slayer stands alone."

She might as well, for all the difference it made. Other than sending Giles and Margo, who was almost as much hindrance as help, the council had done nothing useful. Cordelia had done more, thanks to her wish.

"Dame Margo," Giles said, "I was unaware of the threats you cited; possibly because the board neglected to inform the council of their existence. No doubt, they had what they considered adequate reason, which leaves me to wonder why you have seen fit to contravene the collective wisdom of the board."

Cordelia sighed, then looked at Willow who nodded, acknowledging her turn.

"Mr Giles," Margo said with false sweetness. "I, at least, would never be so foolish as to question the wisdom of the board. Nonetheless, I am, like all of us, free to act as I deem fit, within the bounds of my oaths, and the breaking of the council has ended many certainties. If you persist in your rejection of my counsel, these four will need this warning of the greater evils they may face, and the comfort of knowing they are not alone. If you doubt their worthiness to carry that burden, do tell us why. I'm sure we'll all be fascinated to learn your analysis of the putative deficiencies of these four."

Ominous words. If Margo thought they needed to know about those evils, it must be because she was planning to pit Cordelia, and the others, against them.

"There are a lot, dame," Willow said, rescuing Giles. "Are they working for Omega, or just for themselves?"

Cordelia smiled at Xander. They should have known better than to give Willow an excuse to start asking questions.

"Omega is the last word in evil, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "Whether wittingly or unwittingly, all the evils of which we know serve it."

"So the Delapoor house was built by escapees from Anchester, dame," Cordelia quickly surmised, before Willow and the watchers could go down another tangent. "Is that why there's a monster under my house? Some pet of theirs?"

"People do not keep gods as pets, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "and that creature is of godly rank. It will be a manifestation of whatever vile entity the de la Poers worshipped, not the entity itself, as such, but an incarnation of it."

"Whatever?" Giles said, smiling. "Do you not know, Dame Margo?"

"Unfortunately, Mr Giles, there are many entities which make similar demands of their worshippers. Even you could name three, and I know of several others." Margo said, then shrugged. "We may be able to narrow the field further, now that we know of the de la Poer house but, in truth, its name scarcely matters. The same cleansing procedures must be employed whether it is the swallower of stars or Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch, to name but two possibilities."

"What procedures?" Cordelia said, leaning forwards.

"First," Margo said, "we will need to remove all the bones from beneath the site, and rebury them in holy ground. That should break the entity's link with the site. Mistress Willow, for how long did the de la Poer house stand? How many de la Poers lived there?"

"Twenty, dame, and the house was two hundred years old. What bones?"

"The lower caves beneath Anchester castle were filled with a sea of bones, over a hundred foot deep and stretching for miles. We can anticipate the de la Poers will have accumulated a similar, though somewhat smaller, collection here."

Margo paused, then looked gently at Cordelia. "There may well be as many as three hundred thousand skeletons beneath your house, and its neighbours."

An entire townful of people, slaughtered by the Delapores, and they would not have died peacefully. Her house was built on a charnel pit, the site of atrocities such as she had only seen in nightmares.

But thinking about all those people, dying in agony, wouldn't help anyone. They weren't any threat to her, they'd not bothered her once in seventeen years, and she couldn't help them. Best to ignore them, and concentrate on the real threat, the horror living underneath her house.

"That's over four a day," Willow protested. "It'd take a town of seventeen thousand to sustain that, minimum. Any less, and people wouldn't be born fast enough to replace the losses. Sunnydale wasn't big enough, back then."

"Five hundred," Margo said, her voice filling with cold fury. "The de la Poers farmed men as men farm cattle, breeding them for the table and for torture. Generation after generation lived and died in the caves beneath Anchester castle, never knowing sunlight. Into pain they were born, their feet amputed within minutes of their birth, forcing them to go on all fours, like the beasts of the field; in pain they lived—"

Margo glanced at Buffy.

"—their every waking breath a torment; and in pain they died, victims of the most vile tortures the de la Poers could imagine."

Buffy stared at Margo, horrorstruck.

"And, like any good farmer, the de la Poers paid careful attention to productivity. They fed the women certain drugs that shorten childhood, and encourage multiple births; first pregancy at ten, quintuplets every year thereafter," Margo said. "With five hundred people imprisoned beneath the de la Poer house, they would never have needed to look outside their own cellars for victims, but they would have anyway, kidnapping townsfolk for special feasts and to supply fresh blood."

"You c-c-c—" Xander stammered through a mouthful of pasta, then scowled briefly at Margo.

Margo looked straight at Willow, a faint rainbow glimmer dancing over her hate-contorted face. "Are you sure there were no survivors? Maybe someone who had married out of the family?"

"Every Delapoor in Sunnydale died, dame" Willow said, smiling. "I can check the genealogical records, make sure none of them escaped."

"Do that, Mistress Willow," Margo said, fists clenched. "If any of them did escape, if any remnant of that family survives, they shall be destroyed."

"OK, you can do that to people," Xander corrected himself, "but you shouldn't. It's wrong."

Willow nodded. "They were worse than vampires."

Cordelia sipped her water, trying to decide what this news meant for her.

"That's debatable," Margo said, looking slightly calmer. "They were more organised, and technically human, but they did not kill quite so many people. Where a typical vampire averages one kill every three nights, each de la Poer averaged one every five nights. Should any of the greater evils triumph, people would die by the million, if they were lucky."

"A rather misleading statistic, Dame Margo," Giles said. "The typical vampire is dead within a year."

"This isn't about numbers," Xander said angrily. "Treating people like that is wrong."

Willow looked hesitantly at Margo. "Were the Delapoors unique, dame? Farming is a lot more reliable than hunting, and it must be harder for the council to spot. There wouldn't be an anomalously high death rate, though you might be able to track them by their food bill, unless they used a supermarket, or similar, to hide the high food consumption."

"Well reasoned, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "The last case uncovered was about a year ago, under a supermarket near Boston. Its true owners were vespoid demons, who needed a constant supply of live humans to host their larvae."

Something to ask Faith about, if she ever turned up, but not important right now.

"Could we talk about something else, dame?" Cordelia said. "We are eating."

Willow looked at Buffy, who was still pale with shock, and smiled. "Sounds like Cordelia won't have to stay with you much longer. Once the bones are gone she'll be able to go home."

"No," Margo said. "The second stage will be to demolish those houses, and scour the pits beneath them with holy flame. After that, we'll divert a river over the site, or possibly let the sea flood it. Naturally, the board will make every reasonable effort to provide Mistress Cordelia with alternative accomodation."

Cordelia winced. Owing her home to people like Margo would not be pleasant. She'd have to find her own alternatives, and fast.

Willow twiddled her fork. "That'll do a lot of damage to the rest of the town, dame. Couldn't you just put a lake there?"

"Still waters would grow stagnant," Margo said, "and in their stygian depths would brew foulness. Besides, the board is giving serious consideration to the possibility of flooding all Sunnydale, once its human inhabitants have been persuaded to leave."

"Know how to swim?" Xander said, smiling at Buffy. "I could teach you."

Buffy stared at him. "How can you joke about that? How can you all take this so calmly? You were the same Wednesday, laughing at those visions we saw, and Cordy was very cheerful this morning."

Margo looked at Giles. "Haven't you told her yet, Mr Giles? This, she does need to know."

"I'm afraid not, Dame Margo," Giles admitted. "I couldn't, since I was never informed of this."

"Mr Giles, it should have been obvious the moment you learned this to be an hellmouth," Margo said, then looked at Xander. "Mr Alexander, there was a boy called Peter in your class in elementary school. Do you recall what happened to him?"

"Something bad?" Xander guessed.

"How do you know," Willow said, "dame?"

"The board vetted you quite thoroughly," Margo said. "Try to remember. You were nearly seven."

Cordelia frowned, trying to place the name.

"He poked his own eyes out with a pencil?" Willow said, hesitantly.

"No," Cordelia said, her memory sparked. "Sarah did that. Peter jumped out the window, without opening it."

"That was Tim," Xander said. "He had scars. I think Peter just stopped talking. Didn't he end up in a mental hospital?"

"I think so," Willow said. "But I'm it was a boy who poked his eyes out, not Sarah. She got in the kitchens, sliced herself open with a carving knife."

"That was Sarah Hooper," Cordelia said, "Or maybe Jessica. I was thinking about Sarah Fowler. She had red hair, remember?"

"Jessica cut off one of Kevin's fingers," Xander said. "His parents left town soon after. Sarah Fowler pounded a pencil into her own heart. There was blood everywhere. I think she got the hammer from Mike, or was it Dave? Which was the tall one?"

Giles looked thoughtfully at Cordelia, and the others.

"I heard it wasn't Kevin's finger she cut off," Willow said. "The hammer was Mike's. He thought there were monsters living in the walls, so he wanted to demolish them. Dave was the one who liked setting things on fire."

Willow paused, frowning. "That was a bad year."

"Bad?" Buffy said. "Three suicides in a year? That's —"

"Four suicides, Buffy," Margo said, "in their class alone. Fowler did not just blind herself; she pushed that pencil through her eyes, into her brain."

Cordelia nodded. "Harmony pulled the pencil out, afterwards. They gave her a week off school, to get over the shock."

"The rest of us only got a day," Xander said, scooping up another forkful of pasta, then he looked at Margo. "I do-, didn't remember it being that bad, dame."

Cordelia hadn't either, until Margo had reminded them, but it was a long time ago.

"How could you forget?" Buffy said.

"They were only six," Margo replied. "Few people can remember much from that age."

"I'd remember if someone killed themselves in front of me," Buffy insisted.

"You might think so," Margo said, "but you might also think people would remember vampires."

"You implied this was because of the hellmouth, dame," Willow said. "Is that why we forgot."

"Indirectly, Mistress Willow. There are many contributing factors."

"Dame Margo," Giles said, looking at Buffy, "a concise explanation would not be unwelcome."

"Very well, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Living on the hellmouth involves a degree of mental stress somewhat greater than people normally encounter, due partly to suppressed memories of encounters with the dark, partly to a subliminal awareness of the lurking horrors, and partly to the pyschic pressure exerted by the aura of the hellmouth itself. The effects of this stress are most obvious on those born here, since those of equal age have had comparable exposure. Mr Alexander, can you name any of those effects?"

"Madness, dame?" Xander guessed.

Cordelia leaned forwards, hoping she wouldn't be Margo's next target. She'd done this a few times yesterday, asking surprise questions, officially so she could check how well Giles had taught them.

"Correct," Margo said, smiling approvingly. "Prolonged stress is harmful to the psyche. It can drive people to suicide, or twist their thoughts into madness, if their mental defences are insufficient. Mistress Cordelia, what would you consider the most effective defences against such stress?"

"Meditation?" Cordelia guessed, "and a good sense of humour, dame?"

"Correct," Margo said approvingly, "though effective meditation requires training, such as Mr Giles should be able to provide. Now, of those born of the hellmouth, about half either naturally possess or learn mental defences sufficient to withstand the stresses the hellmouth exerts. The rest slowly crumple under that pressure until, after five or six years, their sanity fails. Anyone who can endure seven years here should be able to endure the hellmouth indefinitely. Mistress Willow, what does this mean for Buffy?"

"She'll have to persuade her mother to leave town before too long, dame," Willow said, giving Buffy a concerned look. "Buffy's the slayer, so she should be immune, but her mother may be vulnerable."

Buffy stared, her face halfway between anger and fear.

"Partially correct," Margo said. "The slayer has no innate protection from magical or psychic assualt, only such defences as her watcher's training of her may provide."

Then it was lucky Buffy had kept spending her summers outside Sunnydale. That should give her enough respite to prevent madness.

Smiling, Xander whispered something in Buffy's ear, and she relaxed, slightly.

"Dame?" Willow said, "Are you sure about that half? Only a third of our class were affected."

"That you know of, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "A sixth are driven to suicide; a sixth show overt symptons of significant mental illness, most commonly catatonia or paranoia; and a sixth survive by silencing their conscience. If you have no compassion for your fellow man, the hellmouth is somewhat easier to live with."

So one-sixth of her classmates had no conscience left; not entirely surprising when two of them had tried to kill her, in the original history. Presumably, most of that sixth would just become lawyers or politicians, but there were probably another four or five potential killers out there, in her year alone.

However, since none of them were going to try anything for at least a year, they could safely be ignored for now.

"I'll teach you some meditation techniques," Giles said, looking at Buffy, "and find some way to get your mother out of town."

"Why didn't you tell Giles about this, dame?" Xander asked, unwisely. Margo could easily turn that question against Giles, making it sound like he was so incompetent he needed someone giving him instructions every second of the day.

Even if he managed to make her admit this was an exception, which it was, Margo would just pass the blame downwards, to Travers. He'd been Giles's boss, before his coup attempt, and he was in deep disfavour now, making it easy to blame him, hard to argue for his innocence.

"I'm sure Dame Margo has her reasons," Giles said quickly, then smiled. "This means you three are immune to madness."

"Not quite, Mr Giles," Margo said. "They have developed a degree of mental resilience somewhat in excess of the norm, but their encounter with the whisperer in darkness will have tested that resilience to its limits. Severe personal tragedies would do likewise, as would certain other possibilities. Still, for the most part you are not mistaken. These three, and many others in this town, can face with blithe insouciance horrors that would shatter the minds of most."

Xander smiled at Buffy. "See, being born here isn't all bad."

* * *

"Aren't you going, Mr Giles," Margo said, ten minutes later.

"I wasn't aware of any need for my presence." Giles replied.

"Your slayer may need your advice, Mr Giles,"

"In a zoo, Dame Margo?"

"This is a hellmouth, Mr Giles," Margo said. "You should always be anticipating trouble."

"A sound principle, Dame Margo," Giles conceded, unsurprisingly. Going to the zoo would give him more chances to make himself look good over the hyenas.

He hadn't actually discussed that option with Cordelia, all their plans had been based on the assumption Giles would be staying in the library today, but she was flexible. Having Giles around the zoo wouldn't give her any problems.

"You can't follow me everywhere," Buffy said.

"Not everywhere," Margo said. "While you stay on familiar ground it can reasonably be assumed that you are fully aware of the dangers you might encounter. It is only when you venture onto unfamiliar ground, as you will be doing this afternoon, that you are liable to have need of Mr Giles's advice."

"Librarians do not normally go on school trips, Dame Margo," Giles said, "but I will see what can be done."

"The trip is short one adult," Mr Bodsworth said as he picked up Buffy's plate. "It seems Robinson called in sick today, after recieving an unexpected cheque in the post."

Buffy scowled.

"You going too, dame?" Xander said.

"My security requirements would be too onerous, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "If Mr Giles should need my advice, he will be able to phone me."

"How, dame?" Xander said. "He'll be outside."

"Modern technology is not without its uses," Margo said. "Mr Bodsworth has purchased two mobiles for that purpose."

It seemed Margo had been busy planning too, which suggested she had ulterior motives for getting Giles away from the library.

Margo smiled at Xander. "I will need someone to answer the phone for me, lest my voice be recorded. You should do."

"Me?" Xander gasped. "You want me to spend the afternoon here, with you, dame?"

"You've got aides for that," Willow said, "dame. Use them."

Cordelia nodded. Leave Xander alone with Margo for the afternoon, and she might trick him into almost anything.

"My aides will have other duties to perform," Margo said.

"So I imagine, dame," Cordelia said dryly. "Why Xander? Why not Willow? She likes libraries."

More importantly, she was harder to outwit than Xander and she just might be able to divert Margo into a harmless discussion of esoterica. Of course, Cordelia herself would be the best at handling Margo, but volunteering herself would look odd. Besides, if she stayed here she wouldn't be able to take care of the hyenas.

"Precisely, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "Of you three she has the least to gain. Mr Alexander has the most, being the least academic amongst you."

"You're going to make me read these old books?" Xander said, frowning. "Will there be a test, dame?"

"I do not compel," Margo said. "I merely advise. You are not the slayer. You cannot walk her path. Set the bright-burning fires of your mind against the dark, not your strength at arms alone."

Fine advice for people like Willow, and Margo herself, but not everyone was like them. Cordelia was smart enough to take that approach, if she really needed to, but Xander would be better off playing to his own strengths.

"You think me memorising these books will help Buffy?" Xander said. "We've got Giles for that, dame."

"You do not carry him in your pocket, Mr Alexander, nor does he sit upon your shoulder," Margo said. "You have helped Giles with his researches, haven't you."

"I've helped him look stuff up," Xander said warily, "but that's different. I knew what I was looking for, and we needed to find it fast."

"You will not always have the advantage of knowing what you need to learn," Margo said. "There will be times when remembering some obscure footnote from one of these books would save Buffy's life, and yours, but I cannot tell you in advance what books those might be. I can only suggest that you would be well advised to develop an appetite for learning."

Memorising the entire library in the hope that one paragraph might someday prove useful didn't sound very sensible to Cordelia, but Giles and Willow both seemed to approve. If she objected they'd both instinctively take Margo's side, leaving Cordelia in an awkward position.

"They're boring," Xander said. "I'll fall asleep, dame."

"If so, Mr Alexander, the fault lies with you, not with them. I may be able to remedy that."

"You can't make Xander stay," Buffy protested. "He doesn't want to."

"Do you think so little of him?" Margo said. "Young children put what they want above all else. Mr Alexander is not a child."

"So I should do what you want instead, dame?" Xander said, smiling.

"No, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "You should do what you judge to be for the best. If that is to charge blindly into the face of the enemy, flags flying, I can and will pledge to you the board's unconditional support. We will back you to the hilt, for so long as you shall live, and when you die, in glorious battle, we shall honour your name whilesoever men draw breath, though the stars grow cold. However, we would prefer it if you did not die young. I am advising you accordingly."

Strong words, especially since Margo believed in keeping promises.

"I'd prefer that too," Xander said. "But staying here won't help anyone, dame."

"You are mistaken, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "Need I remind you of the benefits of ..."

Not needing any reminder, Cordelia tuned out Margo's latest peroration, instead trying to work out how best to proceed.

She could back Xander up, which would help her image and, if she succeeded, keep him at a safe distance from Margo, but she might not succeed. Margo was a challenging opponent, and she felt strongly about her position, which always made the fight harder. Even with Cordelia's superlative social skills, winning this argument would be difficult.

Was it worth the effort?

Margo's intentions were clear now — spend the afternoon talking about carefully selected books with Xander, subtly nudging him into thinking more like a watcher, more like herself — but it wouldn't work, which meant it would be safe to leave Xander alone with her, and well away from the hyenas.

Support Xander, and all she'd gain would be a minor boost to her image, at the cost of endangering him, and annoying Margo.

Stay neutral, and everyone would be against her.

Support Margo, and she'd ensure Xander was safe, at no real cost to herself. Her image might be slightly bruised, but she could easily finesse that.

"... never experience that sublime moment," Margo was saying, her eyes dreamy, "when the veils of confusion melt away and the obscure becomes obvious; when all mysteries are laid bare, and sense found in what seemed senseless; when order crystallises out of chaos, and the truth becomes manifest; when you comprehend the universe entire, see to the very heart of being—"

For a moment Margo paused, a blissful smile on her lips.

Giles and Willow shared near identical embarrassed smiles of recognition.

Margo looked sorrowfully at Xander. "—then I grieve for you."

"Are you allowed to have that much fun in a library," Buffy said, staring at Margo, then looked at Giles. "You've never talked like that."

"The moment has never been appropriate," Giles said. "In this respect, Dame Margo is right. Learning can be quite enjoyable, and is potentially beneficial to all of you."

Willow nodded. "You've done jigsaws, haven't you?"

"Yes," Xander said. "Why?"

"You know how they're dull, at first, when you're just sorting out the edges and you don't know where any of the pieces go, but things slowly start to fit together, until eventually, if it's a good jigsaw, with not too much sky or anything, there's this moment where everything clicks, and you just know where everything belongs?"

"Sometimes."

Willow smiled. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Sort of," Xander said. "Sometimes."

"What she's talking about is the same thing," Willow said, "magnified ten trillion times."

"Cordy?" Xander said hopefully.

"Jigsaws can be fun," she replied.

Xander looked at all their faces. "OK, I'll stay, so no one else has to, but I won't enjoy it."

"We shall see, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "We shall see."

* * *

"Cordelia," Harmony said, grabbing Cordelia's shoulder. "We need to talk."

"Now?" Cordelia said, pulling away from Harmony. "The bus is leaving in five minutes."

"Now," Harmony said.

"We can talk later," Cordelia said, turning her back on Harmony. Much later, if she kept up that attitude.

"Do you want to know why I've been acting oddly lately?" Harmony whispered.

Cordelia glanced at her watch, then shrugged. "I can spare two minutes."

Harmony's absurd self-justifications would be amusing, and revealing of her vulnerabilities.

Harmony looked at all the other people getting on the bus for the zoo trip. "Not here. This is about weird stuff."

Over by the bus doors, Giles immediately looked up, then smiled at Cordelia and went back to talking with Buffy and Willow.

"Can't it wait?" Cordelia said.

"No," Harmony said, then turned and walked back into the school, slipping something to Aura as she passsed her.

Cordelia hesitated, then casually walked after her, taking care to appear unconcerned.

When she got inside Harmony was halfway down the left corridor.

"Come on," Harmony said. "I know somewhere we can talk."

"Not too far," Cordelia said, slowly following her. "We haven't got long."

Ignoring her, Harmony went up the stairs, completely unacceptable behaviour.

Really, Cordelia should just go back outside and leave Harmony dangling, but then she wouldn't find out what excuses Harmony had come up with.

Instead, Cordelia followed Harmony up the stairs.

"Close enough," Harmony said, looking along the corridor.

To what? Classes had started now. All these rooms were full, all except the new science lab, and that was locked up. Harmony shouldn't be able to get in there, unless—

Cordelia quickly backed away from Harmony, then stopped, feeling the edge of the stair behind her.

Harmony smiled, pulling a handkerchief out of her sleeve.

Cordelia turned, as if to run down the stairs, and Harmony grabbed at her from behind.

Expecting that, Cordelia spun round, kicking Harmony's knee.

Harmony stumbled backwards, then steadied herself and punched Cordelia in the stomach, hard.

As Cordelia gasped with exaggerated pain, she stepped sideways, away from the stairs.

Harmony winced in apparent concern, then she shook herself and jumped at Cordelia, knocking her to the floor.

Before Cordelia could recover, Harmony shoved the handkerchief under her nose.

It smelt strange, a cloyingly sweet scent with a hint of alcohol; had to be either anaesthetic or poison.

Cordelia struggled frantically, trying to push Harmony away, but everything was going grey, fading to black.


	15. Cordelia's Ghost: Revelations

Cordelia carefully half-opened her eyes, trying to see where she had been taken.

White ceiling, flaking paint, lots of doors on each side, a staircase in the distance; she was only a few yards from where Harmony had caught her, if that had really been Harmony, not some shapeshifting demon.

She couldn't have been out very long, just long enough for whoever to tie her up and haul her halfway down the corridor.

Someone dragged Cordelia backwards; one, two, three yards, then they stopped, panting heavily.

Not a demon then. They were all strong enough to carry her.

Harmony might be possessed, she had been acting oddly the last few days, but Margo had seen her yesterday and there was no way she would have let Harmony go if she had been demon-possessed. Either Harmony had simply cracked up or she was possessed by some human ghost, like Buffy had once been.

Harmony dragged Cordelia another few yards backwards, muttering something about a diet.

Cordelia closed her eyes. It'd be another half-minute before Harmony got her in the science lab, longer if she was going anywhere else, time she could use to recover, and to think.

She still felt a little groggy, the after effects of that handkerchief. It should wear off soon, but until then she wouldn't be able to fight, even if she weren't all tied up.

A key rattling in a lock, then Cordelia was dragged round a corner.

She was gagged too, but only loosely. She might be able to work it out of her mouth and talk her captor into submission. At least, she might if it really were Harmony. A ghost would be less reasonable.

Another heave, and Cordelia was pulled halfway across the room, almost certainly the science lab.

Actually, all the ropes felt a little loose. She couldn't move her hands much before the rope started pulling, but she could move them, and the ropes round her wrist felt no tighter than a watch strap.

Whoever this was, they hadn't had much practice kidnapping people, always good news.

Grunting, they lifted Cordelia onto a table, then walked away, not bothering to tie her down.

Cordelia tensed for action, then hesitated. She could easily get to her feet and lunge at Harmony, but then what? Her hands would still be tied behind her back, her legs hobbled by more rope, and Harmony might have other tricks up her sleeves, literally.

Giles should be here soon, and the scoobies with him. He'd seen her go off with Harmony, and he knew she wouldn't miss the zoo trip voluntarily, not with the hyenas waiting. He'd have realised something was wrong now, and be rushing to her rescue.

It wouldn't look very good if he found her passively waiting though, especially not when her kidnapper was this incompetent. No, the best thing to do was wait until she heard him at the door, then stage a distraction.

"You are an abomination in the eyes of the holy; an offence …" Harmony began, familiar sounding words.

Cordelia frowned briefly, wondering where she'd heard them before, where Harmony might have heard them, then mentally shrugged. There'd be plenty of time to find out, after Giles rescued her.

"… no roof shall shelter you, no hand feed you, no man know you," Harmony said.  
  
------------

Cordelia recognised the words now, from when they'd exorcised Amy, but where had Harmony learnt them?

A ghost might have been eavesdropping, but for a ghost to try a exorcism would be stupid, far too much risk of hurting itself. This had to be the real Harmony, and she'd been in class at the time.

"… rotten meat and foul water you shall dine," Harmony said, "and the light of day …"

Barely audible beneath the chanting, a key turned in the lock.

Cordelia tensed.

A faint click, and the door was pushed ajar.

"… denied you! How?" Harmony said, her voice filling with surprise.

Cordelia tucked her knees up to her stomach then, arching her back and stretching, manoeuvred her hands from behind her back to clasping her knees.

"Stop!" Xander said.

Xander? Shouldn't he be with Margo? Didn't matter, right now. Later.

Opening her eyes, Cordelia struggled upright.

Harmony lashed out at Xander with a candlestick.

Xander automatically lifted his hand as he sidestepped, breaking the candle.

Cordelia jumped off the table, at Harmony.

She fell short, stumbling to her knees three feet from Harmony.

Harmony stared at her, clearly startled, and Xander pulled the candlestick away from Harmony.

As Cordelia got back to her feet Harmony stepped backwards, snatching up a knife from the other table.

Cordelia looked meaningfully at her ropes, then at Xander.

Xander nodded, and stepped warily towards Harmony.

"Stop, or I'll kill her," Harmony said, holding the knife at her own throat.

Xander put down the candlestick, then smiled at Cordelia. "Important safety tip: never trust anyone who talks about themself in the third person."

Smiling back, Cordelia tried to pull the gag out of her mouth.

"I don't mean her," Harmony said. "I mean Harmony."

"I don't know if you've noticed," Xander said, stepping behind Cordelia, "but you are Harmony."

His fingers tangled briefly in her hair, his breath hot on her neck as he stood close behind, then the gag fell away.

Behind Harmony a rainbow shimmer played over the wall.

"Margo," Xander whispered, confirming Cordelia's guess.

"Don't you know?" Harmony said. "All those books, and you don't know? You've not realised the truth? That is not Cordelia. You ought to be helping me get rid of it, not fighting me."

Cordelia smiled sweetly. "Did you have the nightmares too? They weren't real. Nothing you saw in them was real."

"I'm not talking about them," Harmony said, shuddering, then looked at Xander. "Haven't you noticed the changes?"

"Saying weird stuff? Tieing people up? Trying magic?" Xander said. "We've noticed."

"Not me," Harmony said, scowling. "Her."

Cordelia lifted her hands so Xander could untie them more easily. "You can't see the things we've seen and remain unchanged. You've seen some of them. You should know that."

"You don't know who you're talking to, do you?" Harmony said. "I'm the one person you can't fool. I know the truth. You are not Cordelia Chase."

Cordelia sighed. Harmony was dangerously close to the truth. She must have noticed some minor flaw in Cordelia imitation of her earlier self and, inspired by the weirdness she'd seen, gone straight for the most improbable explanation she could think of, which explained why she'd been trying to exorcise Cordelia.

Cordelia could have convinced Harmony she was wrong, given enough time alone with her, but she did not have that luxury. Xander was listening and Margo would be here soon.

Cordelia couldn't do anything about that; even trying would be suicidal. She could only wait, hoping Margo wouldn't ask the right questions.

Harmony looked thoughtfully at Xander. "When I prove she isn't you'll help me, won't you."

"She is Cordelia," Xander said. "No one could be that good an actor. Will you put that knife down if she gives the right answers."

"That won't help," Harmony said, after a brief hesitation. "She's reading my mind."

"Have you tried a tinfoil hat?" Xander said.

"Not like that," Harmony said. "She's reading my mind because she's in my body. She is not Cordelia Chase. I am."

An absurd claim, which could only be the result of madness.

"The hellmouth must have got to her," Cordelia said to Xander, then looked back at Harmony. "You are Harmony. Do you remember that name? It's yours."

"No, it is not," Harmony said firmly.

"The wretch is correct," Margo said, stepping through the wall behind Harmony.

Cordelia immediately shuffled backwards, as fast as she could with her legs still tied. If that wasn't Harmony it had to be a ghost, and that made her dangerous.

Harmony paled, whirling swiftly round.

Behind Margo, the wall stood translucent, a window into the library.

"You mean this isn't Harmony, dame?" Xander said.

"It is her body, Mr Alexander, but she is possessed."

"What by?" Xander said, backing away.

"Tell him, wretch," Margo said. "There will be no doubting your word now, for I can neither lie nor be lied to."

"I am Cordelia Chase," Harmony said, impossibly.

"She can't be," Cordelia quickly said, before Xander could open his mouth. "I am Cordelia Chase, dame. She must be hypnotised or insane."

Harmony stared open-mouthed at Cordelia, then shook herself.

"I'm afraid, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "that the solution to this riddle is not quite so simple."

"Xander," Harmony said, "is that true? No one can lie to her?"

Looking uncertainly between Cordelia and Harmony, Xander nodded. "I've seen people try."

"What about demons?" Harmony quickly asked.

"Them too," Xander said. "Who are you, really?"

"I thought I knew," Harmony said, frowning, then looked at Cordelia, "and I was sure you were a demon."

"Everyone in this room is human, body and soul," Margo said.

"But she's a ghost, dame," Cordelia guessed. That explained most of the facts, though not why Harmony — not the real one, but that was the easiest name to use — thought she was Cordelia. "Can you help her move on?"

Then they'd get the real Harmony back, and everyone would be happy, including the ghost.

"I could, Mistress Cordelia, if she were a ghost of one dead," Margo said, then looked down at Cordelia's ankles. "Release."

"A coma then," Cordelia said as the rope untied itself, remembering what Xander would one day have told her about Billy. "Someone, who thinks they're me, is astral-projecting while in a coma."

"Maybe she's a clone," Xander said. "Maybe some mad scientist cloned Cordy for, um, hellmouthy stuff, but the clone fell into a coma, and her spirit went looking for another body."

"This is not Star Trek," Harmony sneered.

"Such things have happened, wretch," Margo said. "Five times this century alone. However, Mr Alexander, there are other, equally likely, explanations. Drawing conclusions now would be premature."

"You mean you don't know either?" Harmony said, then laughed.

"You will address me with proper respect, wretch," Margo said, half a yard of steel in her voice as she glared at Harmony.

For a brief moment Harmony met that stare, then she crumpled, falling to her knees and bowing her head, her face bone white, a—.

No. The real Harmony might have deserved this for her atrocious behaviour, and even then it would have been borderline, but this was just a confused ghost.

"Dame," Cordelia said, "stop it, please. She's human, not a demon."

Xander nodded, moving toward Harmony.

"The de la Poers were human, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "This wretch is significantly less vile, but her soul is stained nonetheless. For her crimes I could imprison her until death, or bind her with many curses."

Margo smiled. "I would rather not though. Mercy is a virtue, and I see no sign of great malice in her aura."

"What crimes?" Harmony said, still kneeling. "I was just defending myself against a d-d-, against what I thought was a demon, dame."

Cordelia was wondering that herself. The way Margo was talking, Harmony must have done some major black magic, which did not fit with her behaviour. She'd never used any magic against Cordelia, though it would have made the kidnapping much easier.

Xander knelt down besides Harmony, paused a moment, his face wary, then whispered something in her ear.

"Ends do not justify means," Margo said. "Your vengeance has claimed at least one innocent victim."

"Has she been killing people, dame?" Xander asked, standing up.

"There are worse fates than death, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "She has inflicted one on the original Harmony."

"I have, dame?" Harmony said. "What?"

Margo glanced at Xander. "To answer that question would be to begin the story in the middle. It may be less confusing if we could start at the start."

Cordelia nodded. No doubt Margo could cope even if the story came out backwards, in Etruscan, but she was the only one who could.

"What was the start, dame?" Xander said, "the morgue?"

"I am not entirely certain, as yet," Margo admitted. "I suggest we begin by listening to the wretch's account of events, after taking appropriate security precautions."

"Here, dame?" Cordelia said, looking around the room, empty apart from two folding tables. This was not a good place to hold a long conversation.

"I'm not going in the library," Harmony said. "That's your territory, dame."

True, but if Harmony thought that mattered she was seriously underestimating Margo. She didn't need home advantage to deal with the likes of Harmony.

"You are unworthy of entering there, wretch," Margo said, then pointed into the library.

"Come," Margo said, and four library chairs floated through the wall, landing in the middle of the room.

Another gesture, and the table Cordelia had been laid on folded up, sliding into the corner. The chairs shuffled round, forming a neat circle in the middle of the room.

Margo clapped her hands, once, and the window into the library vanished.

Standing back up, Harmony looked warily at the chairs, then at Xander. "Does that loser have to be here?"

Xander scowled. "You were asking me for help five minutes ago."

"That," Harmony said, "was when I thought you might be useful."

"Wretch," Margo said, "you will also address these two respectfully. They are of proven worth."

"Even her?" Harmony said. "Dame?"

"Both of them," Margo repeated, then smiled. "Had you followed instructions neither of them would be present."

Instructions?

"You put that note in her locker this morning, dame," Cordelia guessed. "Why?"

"We shall come to that in due course," Margo said. "If you would all sit down …"

"What about Xander, dame?" Harmony said. "I don't want everyone knowing this, and he'll talk to Willow."

"Dame Margo's already thought of that," Cordelia said, pointing to the clay ward as she sat down.

"Those only protect against external eavesdropping, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "not against internal indiscretion, and we do need such protection. You and Mr Alexander can both be trusted not to talk but I would not trust this wretch one inch. I propose we hold this conversation sub rosa."

"Do remember," Harmony said, looking at Xander, "some of us only speak English, dame."

"And some," Margo said, "have such paltry vocabularies that they fail to recognise words long since naturalised into English. As any save the most ill-educated would know, wretch, to hold a conversation sub rosa is to do so in confidence. I am suggesting that we each promise to hold everything said in this room today thus, not telling any others of what we might hear without each other's explicit consent. That will prevent anyone telling Mistress Willow anything you've said without your consent."

Making promises to Margo was dangerous, but magical secrecy would have some advantages. If Margo did ask awkward questions, and she probably would, the answers would stay in this room; undesirable, but better than letting everyone know.

She might even be able to use the same story as she with Giles, which would help her steer Xander in the right direction without telling him too much.

"I know about you and promises, dame," Harmony said. "I'm not making that mistake again."

"Why do we have to promise too?" Xander asked, sitting down opposite Cordelia. "You said you trusted us, dame."

Actually, she hadn't. She'd only said they could be trusted, not that she did trust them, but Xander didn't know how to spot such nuances, which meant he'd need Cordelia's protection in the forthcoming conversation.

"Reciprocity is important in these matter, Mr Alexander," Margo said, then looked at Harmony. "I cannot break my given word, nor may any break their word to me yet I may not, by that means or any other, bind against their will the mind of one who has not so bound the mind of another. That your mind has been bound is a mark of your tainted soul."

"What effect were you expecting, dame?" Cordelia asked, giving herself a few extra seconds to think. That had sounded like the same kind of arrangment as Margo's anti-lie thing, raising the possibility that there were more such arrangements constraining Margo's behaviour. If so, Cordelia should be able to spot the evidence in Margo's speech.

"A painless rash," Margo said as she sat down, "on all the exposed areas of her skin. That would be sufficient reminder of her promise. If she persisted in breaking her word more severe penalties would eventually have been imposed, but none that would violate my oaths."

That was a bit better than deliberate mind control, but not by much.

"What do you want us to promise, dame," Xander said, looking sideways at Harmony, "exactly?"

"I suggest, Mr Alexander, that we each promise to hold in confidence everything said or done by those now present, within this room, between noon and sunset, not revealing any part of it, through word or deed, to any who were not then present without the explicit and unambiguous consent of all others still living who were then present."

No obvious loopholes, and it left room for Cordelia and Xander to talk to Giles once Margo was dead, if they needed to. Cordelia thought another few seconds, checking for traps, then nodded consent.

"I don't w-, shouldn't have to keep secrets from Willow, dame," Xander said. "She's my friend."

"We all have people we would like to be able to tell," Margo said, "but making exceptions would weaken our promise. If you feel unable to respect the privacy of others you can always leave the room."

Xander shuffled uneasily, but did not reply.

"Bind against their will," Harmony quoted. "What if we agree, dame?"

"Those who agree," Margo said, "will be agreeing to the promise, not to the binding of their thoughts. That will only happen to you, and to any who want to be bound in thought as well as deed."

Harmony scowled. "Why shouldn't I just walk out of this room, dame?"

Clearly, whoever Harmony really was, she wasn't someone impressed by intellectual posturing, so probably not the ghost of a teacher.

"You could," Margo said. "I would not stop you. However, if you offer no explanation of your actions I cannot reduce your sentence to reflect any mitigating circumstances there might be."

"You're not a judge, dame," Harmony said. "You-"

"Dare you question my authority?" Margo said, her gaze challenging.

Harmony blanched. "No, but-"

"Then I suggest you sit down."

Harmony sat.

"Are there any other objections?" Margo said.

No one answered.

"Then," Margo said, "if you would-"

A phone rang, in Xander's pocket.

"What are you—" Harmony began.

"Tell Mr Giles I have the situation in hand," Margo said as Xander pulled the phone out. "His assistance will not be required."

"Shouldn't we tell him, Dame?" Xander said hesitantly.

No. The fewer people who heard this conversation the better. Giles would be helpful, if he could avoid bickering with Margo, but it wouldn't be just him. Willow and Buffy would insist on coming here too.

Besides, if Giles was here he couldn't do anything about the hyenas. Xander wasn't the only one at risk.

"To what purpose, Mr Alexander?" Margo said. "He has no need to know."

"He could come and help, dame," Xander protested.

"Are you suggesting that Mr Giles should abandon his post to come here, Mr Alexander? I would not be well pleased at such dereliction of duty."

Or, in plain English, Giles would be deep in trouble if he came back early.

Xander quickly shook his head then opened up the phone. "Giles … Yes … Science lab, tied up … Don't know yet … Dame Margo says- … Yes, she's here. … Yes. … No! … She doesn't want you. … Says you'd be no help. … No! …"

Cordelia listened carefully, puzzling out the other side of the conversation. Xander had begun well, but now he was floundering. Giles was insisting he should come back and everything Xander said just made it worse.

"She wouldn't be pleased," Xander said. "Who'd be in the middle? … No one's hurt …"

"Pass it here," Cordelia said, holding her hand out. Xander was good at a lot of things, far better than appearances suggested, but dissembling was clearly not one of them.

Looking relieved, Xander handed the phone over.

"He says they're all fine," Giles said, probably talking to Willow and Buffy.

"Tell them not to worry," Cordelia said.

"Cordelia?" Giles said. "What's going on?"

"It's sub rosa," Cordelia said; not true yet, but it would be in five minutes.

"Then I should be there. She can't say, Willow."

"But you'd miss seeing all the animals; the lions, the zebras, the bears, the," Cordelia paused, as if struggling for names, "hyenas."

"Dame Margo," Giles said. "I was looking forward to that but — no, it's still Cordelia. I meant she's there — if you and Xander need me…"

"They need you more," Cordelia said, "and tell them not to worry. Harmony didn't do anything."

"She says Harmony didn't do anything," Giles said. "Is she there too?"

"No," Cordelia said, only her body was. "That wouldn't look good."

"You're going to keep Xander company?" Giles said, rightly showing no reaction to Cordelia's apparent non-sequitur. Since no one else could hear both ends of this conversation it wouldn't be difficult to make it sound to the eavesdroppers at each end as if the conversation were on a different topic, allowing Giles and her to talk almost freely.

"Weren't you watching?" Cordelia said, reminding Giles what Margo would say if anyone got hyena-possessed.

"Something happened?" Xander said, leaning forwards.

"She can be quite persuasive," Giles said.

"He's talking about zebras, Xander," Cordelia said, trusting Giles to be able to come up with the rest of the explanation, if challenged. "You know what would happen if they escaped."

"Yes," Giles said, "listening to her could be dangerous, for the verbally inept."

"We aren't grass," Cordelia said, pushing the point. "We can always run away."

"Stand your ground, and you should be safe," Giles said. "Do not doubt your priorities."

"That agreed then?" Cordelia said, checking the apparent concession.

"Very well," Giles said. "We'll see you at four."

"Bye," Cordelia said, then relaxed as she put the phone down. It had been difficult, with so many people listening, but she'd finally managed to convince Giles that he was needed more in the zoo, to stop the hyenas.

Margo smiled. "If you are all quite ready, perhaps we could begin."

  
------------  
  
"… all others living who were then present," Cordelia said, five minutes later, the others echoing her promise.

"Now we can begin," Margo said, then looked at Harmony. "Tell us your story, from the beginning."

Harmony swallowed nervously. "My last normal day was, um, what's the date?"

"April fourth," Xander said.

"Four weeks," Harmony said. "My last normal day was a Sunday, nearly four weeks ago. I hung round the mall half the afternoon, went to the Bronze in the evening, told Jesse he had no chance; all completely normal."

For Cordelia; Jesse had never bothered with Harmony. She hadn't been in the mall that day anyway; her parents had insisted on her visiting relatives.

What Harmony had described was not her Sunday but Cordelia's, which fitted with her wild claim. Somehow Harmony had ended up with some of Cordelia's memories, enough of them to leave her thinking she really was Cordelia.

"Jesse was never interested in you," Xander said, his voice tinged with pain. "He only looked at Cordy."

"Don't you get it?" Harmony said. "I was Cordelia, body and soul."

"That was the last day before Buffy came, right?" Cordelia said. "I did the exact same things. I was, and still am, Cordelia Chase, body, mind, and soul."

Cordelia paused, looking sympathetically at Xander. "I'm sure Jesse was a wonderful person, since he was your friend. I should have taken him more seriously."

Jesse might have lived longer if she had, and he wouldn't have betrayed her for Willow.

"Mistress Cordelia, we will listen to your account in due course," Margo said. "Could you both allow the wretch to tell her tale uninterrupted?"

"I did my diary, and went to bed; still all perfectly normal." Harmony said. "The next morning wasn't."

Cordelia leaned forward. That was the morning when she had first woken up, after the wish. Did Harmony share her memories of that day too?

"My body woke up, looked in the mirror, read my diary, got dressed, but I didn't," Harmony said, her voice tinged with horror. "I couldn't move a muscle. I couldn't even feel anything. All I could do was watch while-"

Harmony's face twisted with hatred as she looked at Cordelia. "-that thing-"

Cordelia winced, realising now what this Harmony really was; a living paradox born of her wish.

Margo tutted, once.

With obvious effort, Harmony calmed herself. "-walked my body around like a puppet, dragging it into danger for no good reason."

"This is the body I was born in," Cordelia said, "the only body I've ever had. It's my body as much as yours."

More, in fact, since she'd had it longer than — best to still call her Harmony. Using her original name would get really confusing — Harmony.

Xander blinked, clearly startled, then started mumbling something about a mirror universe.

"All will be explained in due course, Mr Alexander," Margo said, then looked at Harmony. "What dangers were these?"

"She made friends with Buffy, dame, then started fondling corpses."

"Only one corpse," Cordelia quickly corrected, before Xander could get the wrong idea, "and I wasn't fondling it. I was making sure it was only a vampire that had killed him, not something more exotic."

"A sensible precaution, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "and the risk of him rising so soon after death was acceptably small."

Harmony scowled. "The next weird thing she did almost got me killed. She followed Jesse and Darla out of the Bronze, dragged me through a lot of disgusting alleys, and confronted Darla at the cemetary gates. She told Darla to get her teeth off Jesse."

"You did?" Xander said, smiling wanly at Cordelia.

She nodded.

"Then she started saying weird stuff," Harmony said, "something about killing a judge, a Tarakan assassin, and a Cathla."

"That was a bluff," Cordelia said patiently. "I had to try something to make her let go of Jesse."

Xander nodded approvingly, his eyes pained.

"She did let go off him." Harmony said. "She had to, to attack me. She would have killed me if Buffy and Xander hadn't turned up."

"I knew they were coming," Cordelia said. "I'd seen them leave the Bronze to follow Willow. What took you two so long anyway?"

"That is not currently relevant," Margo said. "Was there any truth in your bluff?"

"Some," Cordelia admitted reluctantly, cornered by Margo's anti-lie magic. "I have helped kill a Tarakan assassin, but the other two have been dead a thousand years."

"An impressive achievement, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "for a civilian. That alone would have made you worthy of the slayer's company, though I am somewhat curious as to how you could have done that without it being noticed."

"She didn't achieve anything that night, dame," Harmony said. "All she did was get me almost killed, twice. She should have stayed in the Bronze."

"I had to try and save Jesse," Cordelia said. That hadn't been her only motive, of course, but it had been by far the most important. All her other aims that night she could have achieved in safer ways, but that would have meant letting Jesse die without even trying to prevent it, and that would have been wrong.

Cordelia looked at Xander. "I did try my best to save him. It wasn't good enough."

Xander leaned across the circle, then hesitantly patted Cordelia on the knee. "It wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"He wasn't worth risking my life. He was a total loser," Harmony said. "You should be glad he's dead; stops him stalking you."

Cordelia frowned. She might once have occasionally thought like that, when Jesse had been particularly annoying, but she would never have actully said it.

"You are doing yourself no favours," Margo said sharply. "Mistress Cordelia's actions were eminently commendable, and did not expose you to unnecessary danger. I will not have her other praiseworthy actions of these last four weeks smeared by your foul tongue. Tell us how you came to be in that body."

"After a couple of days I started seeing dead things, dame," Harmony said, then looked at Cordelia. "There's something … vile under my house, all tentacles and slime. Why haven't you got rid of it, if you're so great?"

"We only discovered that entity's existence last night, wretch," Margo said. "I strongly suggest you complete your explanation without further digression."

"After a bit longer I worked out how to get outside my head, away from her. It felt really weird, floating around with no body, but at least I didn't have to spend all my time watching her make a mess of my life. I couldn't get very far from her though, or stay away for very long. She kept dragging me back."

"If Mistress Cordelia were capable of such magics," Margo said, "I would be able to see the traces they leave in one's aura. There are no such traces in hers. What you felt, wretch, was the remnants of the tie binding body and soul."

"Anyway," Harmony said, "a few days after that I saw them exorcising Amy. That gave me hope. If Xander could force a witch out of her body I might be able to force her out of mine, or talk Giles into doing it for me. I tried to get into Amy's body right then, so I could tell what he needed to do, but Willow and her stopped me."

"I thought one of the faces looked like Cordy," Xander said. "That was you?"

Harmony nodded.

"Most of those faces were lies," Cordelia said, remembering. "They looked human; they felt … wrong."

Cordelia paused, uncertain how to explain what it had felt like, standing guard over Amy's body while a thousand spirits battered her mind.

"Mistress Cordelia was looking for Amy's soul," Margo said, "and only hers. To be able to recognise your soul amidst the swarm, unlooked for though it was, would require many years of practice, which I do not believe her to have had."

"I haven't, dame," Cordelia said, "and even if I had recognised her, I wouldn't have let her in. That was Amy's body, not hers."

Margo nodded approvingly.

"Amy could have waited a few days," Harmony said. "I needed that body more."

"Be warned," Margo said. "Your pathetic self-justifications will be taken into account when judgement is levied upon you."

Harmony winced. "I kept trying, but it wasn't until this Monday that I got anywhere. That was when I made the math teacher tell the truth about you."

"You were the ghost?" Cordelia said. "I was haunted by my own ghost?"

That explained a lot, but it had to be a weirdness record, even for the hellmouth.

"There are only three other such incidents officially recorded in the entire annals of the board, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "and the veracity of two of those is somewhat dubious. Were this conversation not sub rosa, there would be much vigorous debate amongst board members as to who should have the privilege of studying you."

"Narrow miss there, Cordy," Xander said, smiling.

"The next night," Harmony said, "I followed you to the funeral home. When that shadow thing came, and Harmony fainted, I got another chance. I borrowed her body-"

"That," Margo said, "was the first and greatest of the two crimes that stain your soul."

"She is my friend, dame," Harmony said. "Friends share everything."

"Did you ask her permission, wretch?"

"I didn't need to. I know how she thinks. She is properly respectful of my status. She knows I always come first. She would never turn me down, not even if I asked her to date Xander."

Cordelia frowned. The real Harmony had known her place, but she hadn't been quite that subservient, nor would Cordelia have wanted her to be. That degree of slavish devotion would have been too creepy.

"Don't you know what you sound like?" Xander said, looking disgusted.

"Whilst in spirit form," Margo said, "you seized Harmony's body without her consent, thus violating the laws laid down when Omega first descended ravening from the dark. I believe Mistress Cordelia can tell you the consequences of that."

"It was in that book Giles had me read," Cordelia said, explaining her knowledge to Xander while she gathered her thoughts. "You can't move to a better address without permission. It doesn't matter whether you're trying to get to a better world or just trade up to a better body; you need permission from someone who belongs there. Otherwise, there's this old spell that tries to stop you. Every time someone gets round it, the spell get weaker. If the spell ever fails, the demons won't need the hellmouth. They'll be able to come through to our world everywhere."

"A passable summary," Margo said, then looked at Harmony. "You have hastened the death of all things."

"I didn't know, dame," Harmony protested. "No one ever told me that."

"Ignorance is insufficient defence," Margo said. "Even if it were, you should have known what you were doing was wrong."

"Perhaps you've forgotten what friends are like, dame," Harmony said. "There's nothing Harmony would not do for me."

"Perhaps you have forgotten the difference between friends and slaves, wretch," Margo said. "Tell me, have you given any thought to Harmony's current position?"

"She'll be floating around like I was," Harmony said. "She might even be listening now."

"My ward bars all spirits from this room," Margo said. "Even if you were right, you would have intentionally inflicted a nightmarish experience on Harmony. Unfortunately, her current position is rather less clement."

"Where is she then?" Cordelia asked. "How can we get her back, dame?"

Harmony getting kicked out of her own body wasn't directly Cordelia fault, but it wouldn't have happened without her wish, which made putting it right partially her responsibility. Since the real Harmony was also her friend she'd have to do whatever she could to rescue her, within reason.

"Harmony's soul was expelled as the deathgate opened, Mistress Cordelia." Margo said, "the first to feel its power, for it is only by drawing on that power, consciously or otherwise, that this wretch could have succeeded. She will have been immediately caught up in the incipient soul storm, and there she will have remained these last three days, a solitary human soul amidst a sea of demonic spirits. The experience will not have been pleasant."

"We've got to get her out of there," Xander said. "Can you do anything, dame?"

"I could, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "but at unacceptable cost. An unmodified summoning spell would breach the seal Mr Giles placed over the deathgate, and the soulstorm would engulf the town. There should be a way round this problem, but I already have much else to do, and very little time left in which to do it."

"We can tell Giles, dame," Xander said. "He'll think of something."

"We are meeting sub rosa," Margo reminded him. "You can not tell Mr Giles anything, unless all four of us consent, which would also be needed for any attempt to rescue Harmony's soul, since doing that would reveal some of what you have been told in confidence."

"You won't object, will you?" Xander said, glaring at Harmony.

"Of course not," Harmony said. "She can have this body back, once I get mine back."

"You have no standing to impose conditions, wretch," Margo said. "Do all three of you unconditionally consent to any or all of you doing whatever is strictly necessary to safely rescue Harmony's soul?"

"Yes, dame." Xander immediately said.

"Yes, dame," Cordelia said, once she'd checked there was no catch.

All three of them looked at Harmony.

"OK, dame," she said, after a few seconds. "I consent."

"However, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "I do not consider telling Mr Giles, or Mistresses Willow and Summers, strictly necessary. From that information they would be able to unravel too much else of what has been and will be said here. I hereby provisionally refuse consent to any such breach of confidence."

"But we need Giles, dame," Xander said. "Helping Harmony is more important than keeping secrets, and we should tell-"

"You underestimate yourself," Margo said. "I'm sure you and Mistress Cordelia will be able to find some safe method within a year. If you apply yourself in the library, it may take as little as a month. Quicker would be better, but letting Mr Giles know too much will endanger more than it would help."

A tautology which begged the question. Cordelia did want to keep her secrets secret, but helping Harmony was nearly as important; nearly, because in the wrong hands her foreknowledge could be very dangerous.

Still, if Margo believed they could rescue Harmony by themselves, they probably could, without having to tell Giles too much. She'd try doing that, with Xander's help, and only tell Giles if they didn't get anywhere. Margo would be dead by then, so getting her consent wouldn't be an issue, and Harmony would be easy enough to convince.

"But-" Xander began, then Margo looked at him. "OK, we'll rescue Harmony by ourselves, just me and Cordy."

Cordelia nodded. "We'll get her out and find somewhere to put her."

"You can put her back in her own body," Margo said. "That wretch has no valid claim to it, or to any other."

"What?" Harmony said, looking at Cordelia. "That's my body, mine. I-"

"Not any longer, wretch," Margo said. "In seizing Harmony's body you forfeited that claim."

"We can't leave her without a body though," Cordelia said. Harmony didn't deserve that, and she wouldn't need a new body if the wish hadn't forced her out of her original one.

"You know somewhere selling spare bodies cheap?" Xander said.

"No," Cordelia said, thinking about the things she'd seen and hear of, then looked at Margo. "Could we fit her in a puppet, dame?"

Either that, or they might be able to use the body Chris was building, though it would need extensive plastic surgery.

"That is a viable approach, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said.

"I am not going to be your toy," Harmony said, glaring at Cordelia.

"You can get them life-size," Xander said, then quickly went on, "One of my uncles has a collection."

Cordelia nodded, smiling at Harmony. "In this town, no one will notice you're plastic."

Margo nodded. "That can be part of the punishment for her crimes."

"Crimes?" Harmony said. "What else am I supposed to have done wrong, dame."

"You attempted to exorcise Mistress Cordelia."

"So?" Harmony said. "I saw Xander use the same spell, dame. Are you going to put him on trial next?"

"Mr Alexander had the necessary moral standing," Margo said, then looked at Xander. "You do recall the warnings Mr Giles gave you?"

"Something about side effects?" Xander said, frowning. "If I used something too strong too soon it would backfire on me."

"Fortunately, Mr Alexander, there are ways to improve your memory," Margo said. "Had you attempted any of those curses without sufficient justification they would have fallen on you. If your motives were not merely insufficient but also impure, then your soul would have been stained by that act. That is what has happened to this wretch."

"She's cursed herself?" Cordelia said. "Can you undo it, dame? It's not her body that's going to get hurt."

"The roof is still sheltering her," Margo said. "Being in a blameless body will have left the curses inchoate, for the moment. Think of them as a sword dangling over her head, suspended by the thinnest of threads. Should it fall, the consequences would be unpleasant for her, and for Harmony."

"If no one can feed me, I'll starve," Harmony said. "You've g-, um, please do something, dame."

"You could always feed yourself," Margo said. "There are jobs suitable even for one of your limited skills. However, I will not have Harmony suffer for your crimes. Instead, I will use my talents to arrange a more suitable penalty."

"For what?" Harmony said. "I haven't done anything wrong, deliberately, dame. I was just trying to get my body back. I had no choice."

Not true. She'd been able to hurl thousands of books around, and throw lightning bolts. She must have been able to write Giles a note, if she'd bothered trying. He would have thought of something better to do than stealing a body.

"Ends do not justify means," Margo said, "and you had other choices. You did not have to possess Harmony, or attempt to exorcise Mistress Cordelia."

"I suppose you think I should have used your spell," Harmony said. "I'm not stupid, dame. I-"

When would Harmony have gotten a spell from Margo? They weren't exactly on good terms.

"Doing as I suggested would have done you no harm," Margo said. "Doing as you pleased has done you no good."

"You put that note in her locker, dame?" Cordelia guessed. "Did you give her the handkerchief too?"

Xander frowned. "Why would you help her, dame?"

"If you consider prophecy I cited yesterday, Mr Alexander, you should now be able to see its relevance."

After a moment, Xander nodded. "But-"

"I attempted to manipulate the circumstances of its fulfilment to my advantage," Margo said, "but I have not heard the laughter of the bells. I sought to dictate the time, place, and manner of its fulfilment, but succeeded only with place."

"So you weren't planning to talk to the three of us now, dame," Cordelia said, concealing a smile. Margo had implied as much earlier, but it was good to have it confirmed. It meant Margo couldn't have planned this talk in advance, reducing her advantage.

"Had the wretch complied with my suggestions, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "she would have attempted a spell here at sunset that would have broken all magics cast on her. Since the possession was magic done by her, not on her, that spell would have had no effect, but it would have been a fulfilment of the prophecy nonetheless, freeing me to talk with her alone."

That would have also given her the entire afternoon to work on Xander, and left Cordelia unaware of how Margo had learned from the interrogation and of who Harmony really was. On the plus side, it would also have left Xander in the dark, but overall this was a better outcome.

Cordelia smiled, pleased that for once things seemed to be going her way.

"To that end," Margo said, "I had a note planted in her locker, but I didn't give her any handkerchiefs."

Harmony smiled. "I found some chloroform in a supply cupboard, dame."

"Do you know the risks of an overdose?" Margo asked.

"No," Harmony admitted.

"Then you should not have used it," Margo said, then glanced at Cordelia. "Why didn't that note raise your suspicions, Mistress Cordelia? A coded message that this wretch could read as if it were plain text should have rung all your alarm bells."

Harmony frowned. "It wasn't in code, dame."

"It did not appear so to your eyes," Margo said. "To Mistress Cordelia's it did, which should have been ample warning to be careful around you."

Only if she'd believed Harmony could be dangerous, but admitting she'd underestimated Harmony would not be a good idea.

"I thought it was odd, dame," Cordelia said instead, "but I had other things to worry about."

"Perhaps we will discuss them shortly," Margo threatened. "First though, we must determine the wretch's punishment."

"Mercy is a virtue, dame," Cordelia reminded Margo. "She's not evil, just foolish."

And, in an hellmouthy way, she was Cordelia's twin. Standing by while Margo trampled over her wouldn't feel right.

"Indeed," Margo said. "Her crimes were committed out of ignorance, not malice, under conditions that would stress even the equanimity of a native of a hellmouth. Rehabilitation is called for, to which end I will shape her penalty."

Margo paused, tapping her finger on her lips, a gesture so blatant it had to be feigned.

"The restrictions on her clothing are an adequate start," Margo said, then paused again, obviously waiting for a comment, but Cordelia wasn't going to be tricked that easily.

"They're not right," Xander said, "dame. Controlling what she thinks is wrong, and it isn't going to make her a better person."

True, but Xander should have known better than to say so. Margo was obviously setting him up for something.

"I suppose you think you could devise more appropriate penalties, Mr Alexander?" Margo said.

Cordelia frantically signalled 'No.'

Xander ignored her silent warning.

"Yes, dame," he said. "Let me pick them and they'll work, not turn her in to a laughing-stock, or a puppet."

"As you wish, Mr Alexander," Margo said, then poked him right above the eyes with her right forefinger. "I hereby delegate to you my authority to sentence this wretch. Verbis mei gratia aequitatis illi maledicas."

Margo's fingertip glowed, a brief hint of rainbow light swiftly sinking into Xander's head, and he jerked.

"You're going to let him decide, dame?" Harmony said, "He's a-"

Margo looked sharply at Harmony, who fell silent.

"How does that work, dame?" Cordelia asked. "Is there anything special he has to do?"

More importantly, would Cordelia get a chance to discuss it with Xander first? She understood Harmony better than he did, naturally, so she had a better chance of coming up with some penalty that would satisfy Margo and help Harmony.

"No, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "Any suitable command Mr Alexander gives this wretch will have imperative force, whether or not she is physically present. Telling her to do his homework would have no effect, but were he to order her to 'get lost', she would, until she repented."

Then Xander would need to think more about what he was saying, probably one of the reasons Margo had done this to him.

"Excessive much?" Harmony said. "He could curse me every day, for life. That's not justice, dame."

"No," Margo said. "Mr Alexander's delegated authority will expire when sufficient penalties have been levied upon you to precisely match your crimes. Nor will he be able to stretch your sentencing over years. There is a deadline, but these are details I can discuss with him later."

Which would give Margo another opportunity to manipulate Xander, unless Cordelia could think of some way to disrupt it.

"Can I appeal, dame?" Harmony said, her tone mocking.

"In principle, you could appeal to my colleagues," Margo said, "though I could not recommend doing so. They are all somewhat more formidable than I am."

Then Cordelia did not want to meet them, ever. Even she had limits.

"Ahhh," Harmony said, twitching. "Xander will do, dame."

"Now that that matter is settled," Margo said, "we can turn to Mistress Cordelia."

Cordelia carefully kept her face impassive, ignoring Harmony's gleeful smile.

"What is it, Cordy?" Xander said. "Evil twin? Mirror universe?"

Cordelia hesitated. She could still tell them what she'd told Giles, but Harmony deserved to know the truth, and no one would be able to use it against her, since this conversation was sub rosa. Any attempt to blackmail her would break the terms of the promise.

"I," Margo said, "am particularly interested to know how you and this wretch come to have the same soul."

That ruled out using the Giles story.

"Tell us who you really are," Harmony said. "We'd all love to know."

"I'm Cordelia Chase," she said, decision made. Telling the whole truth would be dangerous, Margo might reverse the wish with a wave of her hand, but she could tell them more than she had Giles, and in a way that would make Xander look good.

"That last normal Sunday," Cordelia said, "I did exactly what you did. The next day, I met Buffy. That night, she attacked me behind the Bronze, with a stake."

Xander should know what that meant, with all the comics he read.

"That was-" Xander began, then his eyes widened in realisation. "You're a time traveller, a future Cordy come to change your own past. When from?"

"Late next year," Cordelia said, smiling. Xander picking up her implication so quickly would improve his image and, when Margo noticed what she'd done, her own too.

"Next year?" Margo said, staring intently at Cordelia. "How late?"

"December, dame," Cordelia said.

"December," Margo echoed softly, her eyebrows twitching.

"You believe you're me, from the future?" Harmony said. "That can't be right. I'd never act weird, like you."

"You think possessing people is normal?" Cordelia said and Xander smiled.

"That's your fault," Harmony said. "No one's making you chase vampires."

"I know what they were going to do," Cordelia said, "who they were going to kill. I will not let people die when I can save them."

Harmony shrugged. "So? You could have sent someone warning notes. That would have been enough."

Interesting. Harmony must know Cordelia had done just that. Why not mention Angel?

"I didn't think I would have ever acted like you," Cordelia said, still thinking, "but I am what you would have become, if I hadn't come back."

Cordelia had only had one conversation with Angel Harmony could have eavesdropped on, the one where she'd told him about his curse. If Harmony had been listening she must know Angel was a vampire, a secret she'd be able to use to attempt blackmail. She must be waiting until she could get Cordelia or Angel alone before she made her threats.

"There is a reason for that, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "but we will discuss it later, once the wretch has left us."

"If you're going to talk about me," Harmony said, "I'm staying."

"That would not be in your best interests," Margo said.

Cordelia smiled. "I got the way I am by hanging round people like Xander and Dame Margo. Do you want to end up like me?"

"No," Harmony said, looking faintly disgusted. "But that has to be a half truth. You must have done more than talk to Xander to end up all weird; you must have talked to Giles about weird stuff. I'm not weird stuff so it's safe for me to listen to you talking about me."

Harmony smiled. "You can't trick me. I know how you think."

"You know how she used to think, nearly two years past," Margo said. "Mistress Cordelia has matured somewhat since then. Pray you will do as well as she has."

"And end up possessing myself, dame?" Harmony said, her tone challenging as she looked nonchalantly at her nails, a pose which saved her from having to look Margo in the face. "Why aren't you cursing her for that supposed crime?"

"Firstly, wretch," Margo said, and Harmony trembled at the sound, "it is clear from her aura that Mistress Cordelia has never been disincarnate. For one still living to usurp the flesh of another is forbidden, but not by the most ancient laws. It does not stain the soul, as all breaches of those laws do. Secondly, Mistress Cordelia did not possess your former body of her own volition. Thirdly, the body she took was her own. For these last two reasons I can, and do, waive all penalties."

"How did you come back?" Xander asked. "And why? To stop some disaster?"

"We will discuss that after the wretch has left," Margo said. "She is not yet worthy of such knowledge."

"I need to know what happened to me to turn me into her," Harmony said, "so I can avoid it. I'm staying."

"I think not," Margo said.

"I am staying," Harmony repeated, still staring at her nails. "I do not have to obey your orders."

------------

"Ok, I'll go," Harmony said, forty seconds later, then glared at Cordelia. "At least I won't have to look at you wearing my face any longer."

"Not until tomorrow," Cordelia said, smiling. "You invited everyone round, remember? We've got the same friends. We-"

"Not for much longer," Harmony said, standing up. "Soon, only people like Xander will talk to you. Everyone normal will scorn you."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" Cordelia said, looking nonchalantly at her nails.

"What?" Harmony said. "Xander and Willow aren't good enough for you?"

They were, but if Cordelia said that she'd end up forced to defend keeping Aura as her friend, which Harmony could easily make sound like an insult to Xander. It would be much more effective to attack the underlying assumptions.

"You're not jealous of Aura, are you, Xander?" Cordelia asked, her tone mocking the very notion.

"Of course not," Xander immediately said. "You need someone to talk to about, um, clothes and stuff."

If Cordelia had said that, Harmony would have been able to continue stirring up jealousy by claiming it meant Cordelia prefered spending time with Aura. Since Xander had said it instead, if Harmony tried that tactic, he'd feel forced to defend what he had said, which wouldn't help Harmony.

Cordelia looked straight at Harmony. "Remember, I know how you think too."

Hopefully, Harmony would get over her grudge soon. Once she accepted losing her original body wasn't Cordelia's fault, the two of them should be able to work well together. Friends would be a bit much, they both knew the other too well to trust them, but if Harmony cooperated with Cordelia there wouldn't be much they couldn't do, in the social arena.

In the meantime though, Harmony would need careful handling. Her people skills were almost as great as Cordelia's, and she wasn't spending half her time helping with the hellmouth. If she tried to weaken Cordelia's social standing she might succeed, something the real Harmony could never have hoped to do.

"Really?" Harmony said, sidling towards the door. "Why do I think it's too dangerous for you to be Aura's friend?"

"Don't worry," Cordelia said. "I don't want her body, and I wouldn't know how to get it even if I did. I can't do magic."

"Wrong," Harmony said, smiling triumphantly, the door at her back. "It's dangerous because you're involved in weird stuff. If Aura stays your friend she'll get dragged in to it, like Harmony did. Do you want her to end up like Harmony, a toy for demons?"

"No," Cordelia said. "That will not happen."

She'd been able to keep her followers out of the weirdness in the original history; she could do the same in this one.

Harmony nodded. "It will not happen because I will not let it happen. When I'm finished with you, you will be reviled by all normal people. You will have only freaks and losers for company, and yourself to blame. It will be a miserable life, filled with pain and suffering, but no more than you deserve for stealing my body."

Margo said nothing. Harmony's diatribe must fit with her plans, which was not promising.

With one hand Harmony pushed the door open behind her, her lips twisting into a mocking smile. "The next few months won't be very nice for you, but I have to do it, for my friends' sake."

Cordelia watched silently as Harmony left, thinking about the girl she used to be.

"That's the Cordelia we knew and loathed," Xander said, once the door had closed again, then winced. "But you've got a lot better. Um, I didn't think you'd ever been that bad."

"The wretch will not have been, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "before she was forcibly disincarnated. She spent over three weeks as a spirit, brooding on her loss. What terrors she knew in those weeks I can scarcely begin to imagine. It is a tribute to her strength of mind that she is not a gibbering wreck."

"I've been through a lot too, dame," Cordelia said, "more than you know, but I'm not acting like her."

Harmony feeling bitter was understandable, but saying the things she had aloud was a step too far, a step Cordelia was sure she'd never have taken, but Cordelia wasn't going to hold a grudge, not against herself.

Harmony didn't need chastisement; she needed help, and lots of it. Cordelia would do what she could, of course, but she wouldn't be able to do much until Harmony dropped her own grudge. Until then, she'd have to hope that their other mutual friends would give Harmony enough support.

"You have friends upon whom you can lean, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "You have not been forced to rely upon your mental defences alone."

Cordelia frowned. It was nice when she could relax with the scoobies, the only people who understood something of what her life was like these days, but she didn't do it that often and even they didn't understand her wish-related problems. Their support may have helped a little, but it couldn't account for all the apparent differences between her and Harmony, could it?

"You said we all had good mental defences, dame," Xander said. "Shouldn't, um, young Cordelia have-"

"You should not call the wretch by that name," Margo said. "She has forfeited all right to it, along with the body that was once hers."

"I can't call her Harmony, dame," Xander protested. "She's not the real one."

"Find some other alternative," Margo said. "Her mental defences will be as strong as Mistress Cordelia's, but I did warn you that even the resilience of one hellmouth born has its limits. In the wretch you see what too often happens when those limits are tested."

Margo paused, and looked at Xander. "You walk in the valley of shadow, where the innocent perish in agony and the evil prosper, yet you laugh, for to weep is to be helpless, tears, a defeat, and in your laughter is the sweet music of hope, the antithesis of despair. Is that not so, Mr Alexander?"

Once Xander recovered from his surprise, he smiled broadly. "I-"

"But should the shadows deepen around you, laughter alone will not be enough. When your defences began to crumble, you would seek to shore them up, the only way you know how, by laughing ever louder, but you would have nothing to laugh at, save the gathering dark. Driven in upon yourself, deprived of hope, you would be forced to find fuel for your humour in ever darker matters, until at last your laughter was one with the song of night. In the end, Mr Alexander, you would look upon all the miseries of this world, and laugh to see such fun."

"I'd never do that, dame," Xander said. "Never."

Cordelia was not quite so sure. Certainly, Xander had never come close to acting like that in all the years she'd known him, but what Margo had described did sound a lot like the vision of his dark side Cordelia had seen, when Willow had foolishly repeated words whispered in nightmare. Maybe Xander would act like that, under extreme pressure, even by the standards of the hellmouth, but if he did start going that way, his friends would notice, and intervene, which must be part of Margo's point.

She was saying Harmony's aberrant behaviour was the result of the stress she'd been under, as a ghost, with no one to turn to for help, but if that were all Margo had wanted to say she could have said it in a sentence. There had to be some ulterior motive for her digression.

"Believing that would be unwise, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "The recognition of one's own potential for evil is the surest defence against falling into it."

Xander scowled, clearly unconvinced. "What's that got to do with ghost girl, anyway, dame?"

"What is Mistress Cordelia's primary defence?" Margo asked.

Now Cordelia understood what Margo was up to, at least partially.

Xander looked uncertainly at Cordelia. "Self-confidence, dame?"

"Correct," Margo said. "Mistress Cordelia believes herself equal to any challenge. Thus, she does not despair in the face of evil. Rather, she perseveres even when all hope seems lost, rallying her troops to the cause, for she is also a leader of men. She is a bastion behind whose shelter others can prosper and a trumpet blast, calling the charge."

All true, of course, but not the whole truth. Cordelia knew there was more to her personality than confidence and charisma, just as there was more to Xander than a good sense of humour. They both had many other good traits, too many to describe in under an day.

Margo wasn't trying to paint a balanced picture of Cordelia's personality; she was sketching a quick caricature, concentrating on those virtues that could be twisted into vices, so that Xander would know what to look out for.

"But should the shadows deepen around her, hollow pride could swell into hubris, until she believed this world her domain, and the people in it, hers to toy with."

A much shorter, and apparently less polished description of the downward road than Margo had given Xander, but then she'd been planning to talk to him about Cordelia, not about himself. She'd probably been rehearsing that talk, fine tuning her rhetoric for maximum effect, but she hadn't planned for Cordelia, and it showed. Not much, of course, Xander wouldn't have noticed a thing, but to Cordelia the difference between Margo's last minute improvisations, full of what had to be quotes from some old book, and her rehearsed speeches, carefully crafted to sound like spontaneous oratory, was clearly discernable.

"You think that's what happened to the ghost girl, dame?" Cordelia said, making sure Xander would get the point. "She could only make herself believe she would get through her ordeal by puffing up her ego until it lost all touch with reality?"

That, and other stress-induced self delusions, could explain why Harmony was more arrogant and rude than Cordelia ever remembered being. Being a ghost would certainly have been stressful, at least as bad as anything Cordelia had experienced, and most of that time Harmony, unlike Cordelia, had been unable to do anything to help herself. Cordelia might not have had much control over events, but thanks to her foreknowledge she had at least had some, which had been reassuring.

For that and many other reasons, Cordelia herself was in no danger of going the same way as Harmony. Her self-confidence was still firmly grounded in reality, and would remain so.

Still, the new prophecies had warned there would be attempts to corrupt all three of them, so for Margo to warn them what to look out for was an understandable precaution on her part, and one that had to be done subtly. If she'd told Xander outright that people were going to be watching him for signs he was turning evil, he would not have been pleased.

"That is an adequate summary, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "Fortunately, though she was driven near the edge, she did not fall. It may be that she could be dangerous."

Cordelia smiled inwardly. Her message delivered, Margo was moving to the next point on her agenda.

Xander frowned. "You think she's still got ghost powers, dame?"

"Not as such, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "but she has been exposed to a constellation of forces unprecedented in all the annals of the board. Quite what that will entail I cannot be entirely sure, but a new talent for necromancy would not seem unlikely."

Margo shrugged. "However, that should not be a problem. Now that the wretch's ordeal has ended she can begin to heal, with the help of her friends. Within a few months she should recover her former good nature. Until then, it will be best if Mistress Cordelia could avoid her."

Not an option, it would mean completely abandoning any pretence of a normal social life, but telling Margo that would be futile.

"Unfortunately," Margo said. "The wretch is among the least of our problems. Mistress Cordelia's temporal displacement raises issues of rather more concern. Does anyone else know about this?"

"This is the first time I've told anyone I've time-travelled, dame," Cordelia said carefully, unsure how much Giles would have told Margo.

Margo smiled. "But you did tell Mr Giles you had seen the future that should have been, leading him to believe you had recieved a vision."

"He told you, dame?" Cordelia said.

"No," Margo said. "I would hope Mr Giles would not disclose that information to anyone, even his patrons, without your approval. I deduced it from certain of his actions, in combination with your wording just now."

An impressive feat, and a warning. Bending the truth without Margo noticing would be near impossible, even for Cordelia.

Xander looked briefly confused, then shrugged and leaned forwards. "How did you do it, Cordy? Why? What was going wrong?"

"The how, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "is too dangerous for us to know. Any attempt to repeat Mistress Cordelia's feat, or to undo it, would be near certain to unleash apocalypse, so the means must be kept secret, lest our enemies make the attempt."

"Don't they already know, dame?" Xander said. "She only came back a year."

"The annals of the board stretch back in unbroken succession to its last refounding, two hundred years before Menes first wore the double crown, twelve hundred years before the bluestones were raised on Salisbury plain, twenty-two centuries before the fall of Troy." Margo said. "In them are recorded many things strange and wonderful, dark and terrible; the glories of fabled Camelot; the doom that came to many-pillared Irem, how a vampire saved the world, and won a soul, the rise of Huitzilopochtli from ghost to god, but in all those myriad pages there is no precedent for this."

"No time travel, dame?" Cordelia said, surprised. Surely other people had made similar wishes to hers before.

"Not on this scale," Margo said. "The slayer Nakhti, of blessed memory, once went three months into her past. In five thousand years no one else has travelled even half as far."

No one that the board knew about, but Margo had admitted they couldn't watch every sparrow fall. If a time traveller didn't change anything important, only their own personal history, the board might never notice them. Even if they did change something important, their time travel might never be recorded if the watcher who found out thought like Margo.

Still, if time travel were normally as simple as wishing, the board should have noticed by now. The truth was probably somewhere in between. Time travel was rare, but not as rare as the board thought, and the hellmouth had boosted Cordelia's wish, sending her unusually far back.

Cordelia wasn't going to tell Margo that though. If she did, she'd be forced to admit what she'd wished for, which would be awkward, and knowing the details wouldn't help anything anyway. Besides, Margo must know her logic was faulty, which meant she must have ulterior motives, again. Better to stay silent, for now.

"The board does have access to other, older records," Margo said, "but there are many lacunae, and accurate translation can prove elusive. Certain passages in the book of fallen dreams do hint at a comparable event in the last days before the first came, and there are other, older, references in the more obscure tomes."

Margo looked straight at Xander. "However, it is clear that time-travel on this scale has never been commonplace. Since we do not wish to see it become so, I most strongly suggest Mistress Cordelia should divulge nothing of this."

"But we're sub rosa, dame," Xander said. "You-"

"That would not protect you from the dark gods," Margo said. "As for your other questions, prophecy is not obscure without reason. What do you think those reasons might be?"

"Um, because they think it's funny," Xander guessed, "or so only people like you and Giles can understand them, dame?"

"Both those reasons are half true, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "More importantly, they must leave room for free will. Failure to do so would have serious consequences."

Cordelia smiled, remembering what Giles had said. "I mustn't tell anyone too much about the other history, only what they need to know."

That was one of the few pieces of luck she'd had since her wish, keeping the awkward questions at bay.

"Almost correct, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "You should say the minimum necessary about those events that have not yet happened. There is no such restriction on telling us how what has already happened differs, and much to be learned."

Cordelia nodded. "If we can work out what the differences are, and which ones I've caused, we can work out what's making things go wrong, dame. That's why I talked to Giles. He needed to know, so we could stop them going wrong."

"Has he come to any conclusions yet?" Margo asked.

"No, dame," Cordelia admitted, "but I haven't told him much yet. He wanted to test what I knew before he started acting on it.

"A reasonable precaution," Margo said, then smiled. "If you tell me what the differences are, I may be able to identify the problem."

"Jesse died there too, didn't he," Xander said softly. "That's how you knew he was in danger."

"Yes," Cordelia said. "I tried to save him, but I failed. Buffy did kill Darla a few months early though. That's the only good change. Everything else is bad. Amy lost a hand, Amber, Marcie, Owen, and Blaine have all died, and the deathgate has opened."

"How much of that do you think is your fault, Mistress Cordelia?"  
Margo asked.

"None of it, dame" Xander said hotly. "She hasn't killed anyone."

True, but not the whole truth, and certainly not the answer Margo would want.

"They wouldn't have died if I hadn't chosen to come back," Cordelia said. "That makes it partly my fault."

"Correct, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "The precise results may not have been predictable, but you should have known better, especially after nearly two years working with Mr Giles."

"Not that long, dame," Cordelia said. "I didn't join the gang until later, the first time."

That should keep Margo from blaming Giles, and the obvious follow up question would give Cordelia another chance to look good.

"Why didn't you wait, this time?" Margo said.

"I can't stand by when I know bad stuff is going to happen, dame," Cordelia said, trying to project passionate conviction, "or when bad stuff that shouldn't have happened does because I gave it the chance. It's my duty to do everything I can to stop it."

That wasn't the only reason Cordelia hadn't waited, but it was the reason that should impress Margo the most, since she clearly had a strong sense of duty, strong enough to sacrifice herself without hope of reward.

"A commendable attitude, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "which has averted much harm. Had you been endeavouring to keep history unchanged, that tacit renunciation of free will would have eventually destroyed your soul, opening a gateway to abomination. However, you are a little too young to bear such an heavy responsibility alone. Mr Giles would be able to help, but telling him too much is undesirable."

When Margo paused, Xander spoke up, right on cue. "I'll help Cordy, dame."

Cordelia mentally winced. Xander was good with words, in his way, but he wasn't any good at spotting verbal manipulation. She'd have to give him some tips, or he'd end up backed into a corner, with her secrets at stake.

"So be it," Margo said. "I too shall help, to the extent that I can in the short time I have left. Mistress Cordelia, perhaps you could begin by giving us a slightly more detailed account of how the last month should have gone."

"OK, dame," Cordelia said, thinking. She'd have to mention Angel, but revealing he was an ensouled vampire might cause problems. If she left that detail out everything else should be safe to talk about.

"I didn't find out most of this until later, dame," she said, "but the day Buffy first came here …"

  
--------------  
  
"…Buffy dumped Owen," Cordelia said. "The zoo trip's been brought forward, so that hadn't happened yet."

"The zoo?" Xander said. "Are Buffy and Willow safe?"

"They who walk amongst animals must beware the call of the wild," Margo said. "So say the new prophecies. Before Mistress Cordelia explains what that means, we should wait and see what Mr Giles tells us, to reduce the need for her to speak of future events."

Xander frowned uncertainly, then smiled at Cordelia. "Been your unlucky month. Want another go?"

"That would be most inadvisable," Margo said, then looked at Cordelia. "Your account makes evident the proximate cause of the recent problems, though some mysteries do still remain."

"Tell me what it is, dame," Cordelia said, "and I'll sort it out."

"We'll sort it out, Cordy," Xander said. "It'll be easier with a friend."

"The hellmouth is stronger than it should have been," Margo said, "and it may be getting worse. Do you know how to sort that out?"

"No," Cordelia admitted, "unless doing your deathgate thing with it would help. Are you sure, dame?"

"The witch's spells were more powerful than they should have been," Margo said. "The numian demon wolves have lingered when they should have gone long since, and the dimensional barriers have been sufficiently weakened to destabilise the portal to Knn-Yrr and permit the creation of the deathgate from without. These facts, combined with certain hints in the new prophecies and occurances elsewhere, admit only one conclusion: the hellmouth has grown strong."

"That's bad, right, dame?" Xander said, a smile in his voice.

"It is … not good," Margo said, smiling back. "Mistress Cordelia, your suggestion might work, for a time, but you would need the aid of another board member."

Cordelia frowned. If that were certain to work she might risk it, despite all the problems it would cause her, but Margo didn't sound very certain about it.

"It would be best if that could be avoided," Margo said. "You would not be able to hide your temporal displacement from them."

"Something must be making the hellmouth worse-" Xander began.

"Most likely a cursed object, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "tuned specifically to amplify the hellmouth, which was triggered by your arrival. It may even be a portable hellmouth."

"-so we find and destroy, dame," Xander finished.

"A sound plan," Margo said. "Unfortunately, using magic to detect a curse within the penumbra of the hellmouth is like trying to see a candle flame in front of the sun; difficult and rather dangerous. You will have to do it the hard way."

"That means long evenings in the library," Cordelia said, looking at Xander, then smiled. "Still want to help?"

"Of course, Cordy," Xander said, with an ill-concealed groan. "You're my friend."

"I can supply some useful books for you, Mistress Cordelia, on both curses and the transmigration of souls," Margo said. "It would be best if the two of you use them for the greater part of your research, rather than Mr Giles's library, or he may grow suspicious."

That would mean spending a lot of time alone with Xander, a pile of books, and her memories of their relationship, which would be uncomfortable, but Cordelia didn't have much choice. They needed to find that cursed object, and this was the best way to do it.

"How many books, dame?" Cordelia asked. She was going to rent a room for the ones she'd already bought, so-

-but Margo didn't know about those. Cordelia hadn't told her and the bookshop owner couldn't be working for her; he was already in town when the deathgate opened and Margo hadn't gotten involved until later.

Should Cordelia tell her? Margo could certainly help with renting a room for the books, and she could plant evidence to back up the story Cordelia had told Giles, but Margo would put strings on that help, turning Cordelia into her puppet. That was too high a price to pay.

"Only a few hundred," Margo said. "It's not much, but my time is growing short."

"What about your people, dame?" Xander said. "You can tell them to look stuff up for us."

"No," Cordelia said, immediately spotting the danger. "Do that, and we could end up doing whatever they tell us. They'd be able to tell us we had to do it, for the good of the world, and we wouldn't know enough to argue."

Giles could do the same, of course, but he wouldn't. He could be trusted, unlike Margo and her people.

"That's-" Xander began.

"-true," Margo said, "and through you they could gain influence over Buffy. I will admit I would not be adverse to that, they would give better advice than Mr Giles, but I can see Mistress Cordelia is not easily cozened."

Cordelia smiled, as if pleased, but she wasn't easily fooled either. Margo had wanted her to see through the flattery, so that Cordelia would start congratulating herself on seeing through Margo's trap, and —

— but that was exactly what Cordelia was doing, just as Margo had wanted. Fortunately, Cordelia had noticed the trap within the trap, but thinking that also played into Margo's hands, as did thinking that.

"However," Margo said, "the current crises must come before all political considerations. Mistress Cordelia, I promise you that I will make no attempt to put you under my control or anyone else's. We should be able to come to some arrangement that will safeguard your independence."

This time, Cordelia's smile was unfeigned. Margo couldn't break her promises. Her help would be perfectly safe to accept, and very useful.

"Are you both ready to discuss terms?" Margo said, smiling gently.

---------------  
  
Ninety minutes later Cordelia stepped through the wall, into the library.

Xander followed her, yawning.

"I'm glad that's over," he muttered, just before Margo stepped through.

Cordelia nodded. The negotiations with Margo had been tedious, but all fifty-three subclauses were necessary, to protect their independence, and they would gain a lot from the deal.

Most of the help would be financial; a trust fund that would pay the rent on an apartment for Cordelia's books, with a few hundred dollars a week left over for other expenses, carefully arranged so that no one would be able to control them by threatening to cut off the money but other forms of help would be available too, with appropriate safeguards.

"Dame Margo-" Agatha said.

"Wait," Margo said, then beckoned to the library chairs, summoning them back out of the science lab.

"Bu-" Agatha began, then stopped herself.

Odd behaviour, for Agatha. If she was willing to think about hurrying Margo something important must have happened.

Margo closed the portal to the science lab, then turned to face Agatha. "Yes?"

"Dame Margo," Agatha said. "I believe we have found a de la Poer."

"The bad family?" Xander said. "I thought Willow was doing that."

"Mistress Willow's offer was much appreciated," Margo said, "but my people do have somewhat more experience. Agatha?"

"Dame Margo," Agatha said, "in 1892 Anna Delapoor married a Samuel Malia, of Los Angeles. In 1942 James Malia, whom we believe to be their sole grandchild, changed his family name to Delapare."

"The council were rather distracted then," Margo said. "How many descendents are living now?"

"Eight, Dame Margo," Agatha said, "and two spouses who have married into the family. All five adults work for the same law firm."

"All rather suggestive," Margo said. "Do you have any substantive evidence?"

"These are copies of the relevant certificates, Dame Margo," Agatha said, putting a folder on the table, "and this-"

Agatha put down a walkman.

"-is a recording of Norman Delapare's voice, taken from a phone call we intercepted."

Margo picked up the walkman and smiled.

"Animam oratis nobis aperi," she said, then pressed play.

"Our department specialises in persuading uncooperative witnesses to …" Norman said, and around the walkman an image formed: an ugly little man in a tailored suit, gnawing a human leg. At his feet lay the instruments of torture, stained from long use, and in the air around him faces flickered, screaming in agony, other images forming behind them.

Margo pressed stop. "He is a de la Poer. He shall be destroyed."

"What was that, dame?" Xander asked. "Things he's done?"

"It was his soul made manifest," Margo said, "it's corruption revealed. He will not physically look like what you saw, but he will have committed the crimes you saw symbolised in the manifestation; torture, rape, murder, cannibalism, and worse."

Then the symbolism must have been as obscure as any prophecy. The only crimes Cordelia had spotted were torture and murder, but since that was reason enough to execute him the rest didn't really matter.

"Kill him," Xander said, then smiled "What does my soul look like, dame? Can you show us?"

Probably something dull, with bells in, and a few shadows; Xander was a good person, but not that special.

"Maybe later, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "It would not be appropriate for you or Mistress Cordelia to see each other's souls."

Cordelia nodded. She certainly didn't want Xander looking at her soul. She wasn't that sure she wanted to see it herself. She knew she was a good person, but she wasn't a saint. There might be things in the recesses of her soul that would make uncomfortable viewing.

Margo looked at Agatha. "Order Norman Delapare to present himself here for judgement at five pm tomorrow, in the name of the council, prepare a preliminary report for me on his employers by three, and inform the council of our discoveries."

"You expect him to come here, dame?" Xander said, surprised. "Won't he run when he finds out you're after him?"

"He does not know who I am," Margo said, "nor will he ever be permitted to. It doesn't matter if he disobeys me, with this tape I could destroy him wherever he might flee, but it will be interesting to see what response I get."

Margo smiled wolfishly. "If any dare protect him, they too shall be destroyed. From the wrath of the watchers, there shall be no hiding place."

Agatha nodded eagerly. "From the council's justice there is no escaping. With one hand we shall strangle them in red tape, with the other we shall rain down fire and destruction upon their unclean heads."

Admirable sentiments, anyone who supported the Delapoors deserved to die screaming, but Cordelia would have preferred rather more caution. If the Delapoors had no backers Margo's threats would be overkill, not a problem, but if they did have backup from some other group Margo would be declaring war on an enemy she knew almost nothing about, seldom a good idea.

"What precautions should we take for if the Delapoors do have protectors, dame?" Cordelia said, carefully phrasing the question to sound as uncritical as possible. "We wouldn't want any innocents to get caught in the crossfire."

More importantly, Cordelia didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. If the Delapoors' hypothetical friends took on the council Giles and Buffy would be obvious targets, especially since Margo had named Sunnydale High. Those two could protect themselves, but Cordelia wasn't as tough, and neither were Xander and Willow. They could easily get hurt, maybe even killed.

"While I am here," Margo said, "there will be no danger. By the time I'm gone, any who dare protect the de la Poers will be too busy defending themselves from the wrath of the watchers to take any aggressive actions."

Agatha nodded. "Such a crusade will reunite the council, under our leadership, Dame Margo."

"You will not use it to pursue your political ambitions, Agatha," Margo said, and Agatha shuddered. "In truth, such ambitions are now pointless. A crusade would restore a semblance of unity to the council, for one last hurrah, but the current council's time is over. We of the board care little whether it goes out in a blaze of glory, or dies a lingering death; either way, it will be replaced within a century."

"But what about us, Dame Margo?" Agatha said. "What about your vision?"

"I have made appropriate arrangements," Margo said.

Which she clearly hadn't told Agatha about before. Margo must have altered her plans recently, almost certainly because of her impending death, but why had she revealed the change in front of Cordelia and Xander? They didn't care about watcher politics.

At least, Cordelia didn't care about watcher politics as long as it didn't affect her, or any of the others, but this would affect Giles, and probably not for the better.

"May I know what they are, Dame Margo?" Agatha asked.

"We will discuss them later," Margo said. "First, you have some phone calls to make."

Cordelia watched as Agatha followed Margo into Giles's office, closing the door behind her.

"Now, it's over," Cordelia said, looking across the table at Xander, "until Giles gets back."

Then they'd have another tricky conversation, trying to convince everyone that nothing important had happened.

Xander looked at Cordelia, then smiled. "So, future girl, what's 1998 like? Any amazing new inventions? Giant robots? Mad computers?"

"Well," Cordelia said, smiling back, "strangely enough …"


	16. Cordelia's Ghost: Secret struggles

"… like the Heimlich, with stripes," Willow said, smiling at Xander. "Very … stimulating."

Cordelia glanced at the others round the table, judging their reaction. Buffy seemed oblivious, Margo and Giles were both unreadable, but Xander looked understandably surprised.

"No doubt, Mistress Willow," Margo said. "I found it so, when I was in Africa."

"Would that be when you were rogue, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

"I had justification, Mr Giles," Margo said, firmly rebuffing that sally, "or do you believe the spring rites were acceptable?"

"Certainly not, Dame Margo," Giles said. "You know my opinions on needless ceremony. However—"

"I only broke with the council, Mr Giles," Margo said. "I did not break my oaths."

Giles smiled faintly, apparently satisfied. Quite what he had been after, Cordelia wasn't sure, but he'd been probing Margo ever since he got back from the zoo, not just bickering, but digging for a specific answer.

Any other time, Cordelia would have written it off as watcher politics, but for Giles to be probing now, right after the zoo trip, was worrying.

If the hyenas had been a triumph, he'd have been boasting about it to Margo now, in a discreet English way. If they'd been a no-show, he'd have just stayed silent.

Giles had done neither.

Buffy yawned. "You still haven't told us what Harmony did."

"Dame Margo," Giles began "I—"

Cordelia looked at Giles and gently shook her head. He'd already deflected the conversation away from that topic five times; a sixth would risk making Buffy suspicious, and Cordelia didn't really need his protection anyway.

Giles looked carefully at Cordelia, who shook her head again, then he nodded, the movement barely perceptible.

"—am also curious," he went on, "did you make any progress with Xander?"

Xander smiled. "I haven't opened a book all afternoon."

But he had committed himself to spending long hours researching, to help her and Harmony, a victory for Margo, and one Cordelia hadn't noticed until later, when she'd had a chance to think.

That probably wasn't Margo's only unnoticed victory either, she would have taken full advantage of the distraction Harmony's story had created, but this wasn't a good time to think about that. She needed to be thinking about what Margo was doing now, not what she'd done two hours earlier.

"What were you doing?" Buffy asked, looking intently at Xander.

"Ironically," Cordelia said, "he was with me."

Predictably, Buffy and Willow both turned to stare at Cordelia, ensuring neither of them noticed Xander's surprised twitch.

"Ironically?" Willow said.

Cordelia smiled. "Harmony was worried about how much time I've been spending in here, with Xander. She thought we might be getting too close."

Technically true, since Harmony would think a hundred yards too close, but misleading.

"You and Xander?" Buffy said, smiling broadly. "What is she on?"

"She thought chlorofoming me was the best way to get me to listen," Cordelia said. "Tuesday night must have been too much for her."

That should win Harmony some sympathy, and provide an excuse for any discrepancies if Buffy or Willow tried to get Harmony's version.

"She was always weak-willed," Willow said, looking at Buffy.

Barely managing to hide her surprise, Cordelia looked quizzically at Giles who glanced sideways at Margo then grimaced for a split second.

Something had definitely gone wrong with the hyenas.

"Does that matter?" Margo asked, once again probing Willow, as she had been doing since Giles got back.

"No," Xander said. "Harmony needs help."

Cordelia glanced at Xander, wondering if he realised what he'd just done. She wouldn't have thought so, normally, but even Xander couldn't miss the undercurrents in the room, not when ninety percent of the conversation was undercurrent. That would be enough to make anyone nervous, and to prompt Xander to defend Willow from any attack.

"Indeed, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "but not the kind we can give. We can only keep our distance, and hope she recovers."

"That's the kind of advice I like," Buffy said, then scowled. "If she believes Cordy and Xander—"

"There's nothing wrong with Xander," Willow said, looking Buffy straight in the eye. "He's—"

"—not Cordy's type," Buffy said, meeting Willow's gaze head on.

Cordelia suppressed a smile. That confirmed she had got the balance right, imputing motives for Harmony that were neither so implausible Buffy and Willow wouldn't believe Harmony could think that way, despite what they knew she'd been through, nor so plausible that they decided Harmony might be right.

Now, both of them would ascribe the incident to simple jealousy, never coming close to guessing what Cordelia and Xander were concealing. Even when Harmony found out what they believed, there'd be no danger. She wouldn't deny it, she'd confirm it, thinking to use it to smear Cordelia.

That wouldn't work, Cordelia had been able to stay popular when actually dating Xander, so false rumours that she was would be no trouble, but it should keep Harmony too busy to be able to cause real problems.

"I'm not?" Xander said, looking at Cordelia, mock hurt on his face.

"I don't know," Cordelia said slowly, staring frankly at Xander's body, then glancing sideways to monitor Willow's reaction. "You might have some potential."

Willow glared at Cordelia, her hands tensing into fists. "Cordelia—"

"Enough of this frivolity," Margo said. "None of you have any time for romantic entanglements. Maybe in a few years you might, but for now you should be thinking only of how you can aid in the battle."

"I don't remember signing up for that," Xander said, "dame."

Nor did Cordelia, but objecting played into Margo's hands, giving her another opportunity to push her slayer ideology.

"Would you put your carnal pleasure above the good of the world, Mr Alexander?" Margo asked, a question with no good answer.

"They are not watchers, Dame Margo," Giles said. "They—"

"They are in the slayer's world now, Mr Giles, in the thick of the battle," Margo said. "Sacrifices are necessary, if our cause is to prevail. I trust you do not think them too selfish to make them?"

"The slayer's world?" Cordelia said, taking the onus off Giles. "Buffy lives in the same world as the rest of us, dame."

"She lives in the same world as we do, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "Most people do not."

"Where do they live then, dame?" Buffy said. "Mars?"

Margo smiled. "Metaphorically speaking, yes."

Cordelia frowned. Margo was clearlly going to base her argument on the claim that a slayer could never have a normal life, which meant she couldn't expect Giles's wholehearted support. He'd back her up a bit, of course, simply to contradict Margo, but he did believe that himself, one of the very few things he agreed with Margo about.

They weren't entirely wrong either. As Giles had said, anyone who knew about the weird stuff would find it difficult to ignore that knowledge, and still be able to live with themselves. For a slayer, it might well be impossible.

None of that mattered though. Buffy could easily slay demons, and still have a normal life. She didn't have to have no normal friends, the way Giles had originally wanted, or be kept in a gilded cage, the way Margo wanted, but convincing Margo of that would be near impossible.

Fortunately, Cordelia didn't have to. Margo would be gone soon. As long as Cordelia stood her ground, not letting Margo squeeze any concessions out of anyone, she couldn't lose.

"Buffy shops, she comes to school, dame," Cordelia said, attacking the axiom. "One day, she'll get a job. She lives in the normal world, just like the rest of us."

"Superficialities," Margo said. "Of no account. We live in a world of primal forces, an island of light adrift in a dark abyss."

"So does everyone else, dame," Willow said.

"Their bodies do," Margo said. "Their minds dwell in a world where the shadows are empty. Buffy doesn't. Nor do any of us for we have sacrificed all chances of a normal life, that they may live free from care."

Xander blinked, then looked sideways at Margo, growing alarm evident on his face.

"They are not watchers, Dame Margo," Giles repeated. "While I would never cast aspersions upon their willingness to serve we would be derelict in our duty if we permitted these innocents to bear so heavy a burden."

"You are correct, Mr Giles," Margo said, and Cordelia winced, anticipating. Margo wouldn't make an admission like that so openly, unless she was going to turn it against Giles. "But the damage is already done, by you."

"Now, Dame—" Giles began, but Margo silenced him with a glance. "When you failed to dissuade the slayer from having friends, you failed in your duty to the innocent. They have taken up our burden now and we can never free them from its crushing weight, nor restore to them a normal life."

"We still do normal stuff, dame," Xander said. "We watch TV, go out, think about dating. We need to, or—"

"A useful safety valve, Mr Alexander," Margo conceded, "provided it does not endanger others. Were you to become besotted with anyone else in this room the ensuing jealousies would somewhat reduce the effectiveness of your teamwork, unnecessarily placing the whole world in jeopardy, and romance with anyone outside this room is unconscionable, since it would expose them to the dangers inherent in your lifestyle."

Excessively pessimistic. Dating non-scoobies might be dangerous for them, as Buffy had found with Owen, but dating each other had proved safe enough in the original history. There had been some minor problems, like that love spell Xander had tried, but nothing really serious.

"Indeed," Margo said, "even having close friends outside this circle may be unwise. Harmony's apparent derangement is not untypical of the fate of those outsiders who spend too long in a watcher's company."

That was almost exactly what Harmony herself had said, but the implication was still untrue. Cordelia could help with the slayer stuff and still have normal friends, without endangering them, no matter what Margo or Harmony thought. As long as Cordelia took reasonable precautions she'd be able to keep her other friends a safe distance from anything weird, just as she had in the original history.

"With respect, Dame Margo," Giles said. "These three are not watchers."

"With respect, Mr Giles," Margo said. "They are like enough to what a watcher should be in the ways that truly matter that they will experience most of the same tribulations as true watchers do, though, given your past association with the miscreant Quentin and his bureauphiliac cronies, perhaps you can be excused for your poor understanding of that."

"Dame Margo, I understand what you are saying," Cordelia said quickly, before Giles could escalate. "I will give it all due consideration."

Or, in plain English, get lost. Margo would know what Cordelia really meant, of course, but she respected the appeance of politeness. Now Cordelia had drawn a firm line Margo wouldn't tackle it head on, she'd wait till the next suitable opportunity then do something tricky.

"Do that, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, the barest hint of approval in her voice. "In the meantime, we have a reservation at the Le Jardin Noir, for six o'clock. Perhaps, if Mr Giles has nothing else he needs to tell us, you would all like to go and prepare yourselves for this evening."

"Same as last night?" Buffy said.

"Not quite," Margo said. "Would you rather discuss that now or later?"

"Later, dame," Cordelia said. That way, they'd have less time left to discuss sensitive matters.

"Definitely later, dame," Xander agreed, smiling.

------------

"What are we doing up here?" Xander asked, fifteen minutes later. "Why are we sneaking around?"

Cordelia looked both ways, checking the corridor was empty, then passed him the note.

"Ten mins, music room. Talk re zoo & Dame Margo," Xander read. "Who's this from?"

"Giles," Cordelia said. "He slipped it me while we we all leaving the library."

"Shouldn't we get Buffy and Willow then?" Xander said, stepping back towards the stairs.

"No," Cordelia said firmly. "Or I wouldn't have had to sneak you away from them. He'll be wanting to talk about the stuff I told him about what had originally happened at the zoo—"

"—and we can't talk about that with them," Xander said. "How are you going to explain bringing me?"

"You followed me," Cordelia said. "If he knows you know something it'll be easier for you to hide how much you know from him once I tell you and Margo everything I can since then you'll have less to hide from him. You mustn't tell Margo how much Giles knows though, the more he knows that she doesn't know he knows the better he'll look, and you mustn't let either of them know how much the other has told you, or they'll find out everything."

"So we'll know, Margo will know, and Giles will too," Xander muttered, looking slightly confused, "but he won't know Margo knows he knows, Margo won't know how much he knows, and neither of them can know how much I know. What do Buffy and Willow know?"

"Nothing," Cordelia said, "as far as I know, but I don't know how much Willow knows about me, yet."

"You know about that?" Xander said.

Cordelia nodded. "Giles does too."

"Willow was sure no one knew we knew anything."

"If she doesn't know anyone knows she knows she won't be panicked into doing anything rash."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Xander said, showing a glimmer of sense.

"If we tried to pretend you knew nothing, Giles would see straight through you," Cordelia said. "You need to know enough not to give anything away."

And, no less importantly, enmeshing Xander in a web of shared secrets would make it harder for him to go running to Willow, even if he found a loophole in the promise.

"Is that the only reason?" Xander asked, smiling.

"A good question," Cordelia said, smiling back. "We're going to have to spend a lot of time working together. Secrets would get in the way."

Xander looked thoughtfully at Cordelia, then smiled again. "How many secrets do you think Giles will share?"

------------

"We haven't got long," Giles said the moment Cordelia walked into the room, "but—"

Xander walked in.

After a moment's startlement, Giles smiled. "Cordelia show you the note?"

"No," Xander said. "I followed her. Last time she went off alone, she got kidnapped."

"Good," Giles said. "I need to talk to you about this afternoon too."

"About the zoo?" Xander said. "Something happened, didn't it? Willow isn't acting normal, and you weren't telling Margo everything."

Cordelia glanced casually at Giles, checking his response.

"I didn't notice anything unusual," Giles said, glancing sideways at Cordelia, "but you know Willow better than me. Do you think there might be something wrong?"

Good, Giles was going to accept Xander's story. He'd still have some suspicions, of course, but Cordelia knew how to deal with that.

"Yes," Xander said, leaning against a wall. "Do you?"

"If Dame Margo finds out—" Giles began.

"I don't care what she thinks," Xander said. "Willow is my friend."

"And mine," Cordelia said. "If something's gone wrong we'll both help."

That implicit half-truth would be a lot better at misdirecting Giles's suspicions than a flat denial. Claim she'd told Xander nothing and the least slip by him would prove her wrong; imply she'd covertly told him just enough to get him to help and no one slip could prove her wrong, only a slow accumulation of errors over many months, which would give her plenty of time to prepare a back-up defence.

Giles looked at both of them, then sighed. "There was a prophecy, a sestina in early Hittite."

"About Buffy and Willow?" Xander asked.

"About you," Giles said. "It suggested you would be in danger if you went to the zoo."

"What kind of danger?" Cordelia asked. "Could it affect Buffy and Willow?"

"The prophecy was unclear," Giles said.

Xander frowned. "And you didn't tell us because … ?"

"Margo was listening," Giles said. "I warned Buffy and Willow after phoned you. We started to search it together but, when we reached the ape house …"

Giles paused, looking uncomfortable.

"What happened?" Cordelia said. Had there been another mad zookeeper?

"Remember how the blood demon turned your classmates into Australopithicines?" Giles said.

Cordelia nodded.

"They didn't turn back when it died."

"What's tha—" Xander began, then his eyes opened wide in realisation. "You gave them to the zoo!"

"No," Giles said quickly. "The police did. We're taking steps to transfer them to a watcher's care."

Cordelia glared at Giles. "They're people. They shouldn't be in a zoo."

"No," Xander said. "They should be in a, um, … They shouldn't be in a zoo. Get them out of there."

"They will be, tomorrow," Giles said. "I never wanted them to be in the zoo, but the police insisted they had to be escaped animals. There was nothing I could do to stop them."

"Nothing?" Xander said skeptically, but Cordelia believed Giles. There could be no doubt Giles hadn't wanted to send them to the zoo, Giles wasn't that kind of person, but while Xander might still have unconditional faith in Buffy and Giles, Cordelia, being older, knew better. Some mishaps were beyond anyone's ability to prevent.

Giles could easily have prevented Xander and her finding out about that though, simply saying they'd decided to split up so they could search the zoo better. Instead, he'd deliberately exposed his failure.

Whatever Buffy had said when she'd found out must have really hurt Giles if he was willing to look to Xander for absolution. No doubt from anyone else, he would have shrugged it off, since he was English, but Buffy was his slayer and he was already feeling guilty. Margo's steady flow of thinly veiled insults, fostering self-doubt, wouldn't have helped either.

"Sometimes there's nothing that can be done," Cordelia said gently. "I know what that's like."

Xander looked uncertainly at Cordelia, then back at Giles. "As long as he tried his best."

"I did," Giles said. "The mayor's office kept raising spurious objections, until I circumvented them."

Xander frowned. "Shouldn't they be more worried about all the missing children?"

"They didn't seem too bothered," Giles said. "Officially, the victims were all killed by a gas leak."

Xander smiled. "Be embarassing when they all come back then."

"They're not coming back," Giles said. "Their minds were destroyed by the spell. We can't undo that. We can only make them comfortable."

Then they were as good as dead. With neither mind nor memory left, their bodies were empty shells.

"You mean they're going to be like animals for the rest of their lives?" Xander said.

Giles nodded then, before Xander could reply, went on, "Buffy and Willow were not pleased when I told them this."

"And that's how you got separated," Cordelia surmised, directing the conversation away from that sensitive subject. "Do you know what they did next?"

"No," Giles said. "It was an hour before I saw them again, by when they appeared to have forgotten our disagreement."

"They didn't tell us about it either," Xander said. "That's not right. What do you think happened?"

"It's too soon to say," Giles said. "I'll need to consult my books."

"What about Margo?" Xander said. "She did this spell that let us see someone's soul. She'll be able to tell what's wrong."

"If only Willow were affected, I'd tell her immediately," Giles said, "but overtly asking for her help with Buffy for anything short of impending apocalypse would be tantamount to a resignation. The council would consider it irrefutable proof of my inadequacy."

That might not actually get Giles killed, but would still cause a lot of problems.

"I could ask for her help unofficially," Giles said. "but the price of her silence would be high. We could end up with her aides as assistant librarians, and joint watchers."

"We're not doing that," Cordelia said, "unless we have no choice."

It would let Margo get round the agreement Cordelia had spent half the afternoon negotiating, and place Buffy under the Bodsworths' thumb.

"However," Giles said, "Dame Margo will still feel obliged to help us, covertly."

"Then ask you for a favour," Xander said, smiling at Cordelia. He must have been paying attention when she negotiated that clause of the agreement.

"Council protocols forbid her to do that," Giles said, "and she will have sworn to abide by them. In a situation like this she will not even be able to tell us that she's helping us, lest she gain undue influence over us."

"But she's always offering you 'helpful' suggestions," Xander protested.

"That is not the kind of help that is considered likely to compromise my independence," Giles said, smiling wryly. "Dame Margo knows the rules, and she will not break them. As long as I keep my oaths she will not impose her help on us in this matter. The most she'll do is put anything we might need where we can find it."

Which meant another layer of deception; Giles and Margo both pretending that they didn't know the other one knew they knew. Cordelia could cope, of course, but she didn't need the extra stress. It'd be a relief when Margo was gone, and she only had her own plans to keep straight.

Giles paused, then looked at Xander. "Whose soul did you see?"

Xander smiled. "Norman Delapare's. He'll be dead tomorrow."

"She found some?" Giles said. "Where?"

"LA," Cordelia said. "Ten of them, and they all work for the same law firm. Margo's ordered Norman to come here for his trial."

Giles smiled. "A formality. He will die, and his family with him. Did Dame Margo tell you anything about the law firm."

"Agatha's investigating it," Cordelia said, "but Margo played a tape of Norman on the phone. He said he specialised in persuading uncooperative witnesses. I think he meant torture."

"Then his patrons will perish with him," Giles said, then glanced at his watch, "but that isn't why I wanted to talk to you. Do you have permission to tell me anything about what you discussed sub rosa?"

"Cordy got Margo to promise not to interfere with us," Xander said. "Th—"

Xander winced, and fell silent.

"She already has," Giles said, "and she's got what she wants from you."

"What?" Cordelia asked sceptically. Giles couldn't know that; he didn't know the terms of the arrangement.

Giles winced. "I've also had conversations with Dame Margo sub rosa. I can say only that the bill will not come due for twenty years, maybe longer."

"No one can plan that far ahead," Cordelia said.

"Not in any detail," Giles conceded. "Dame Margo is gambling on her chosen horse in a long distance trial, but she is a good judge of form."

Perhaps, but that didn't matter. Cordelia had enough problems already, without worrying about the distant future.

"A horse called Buffy?" Xander suggested.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that," Giles said. "About these Delapares, …"

------------  
  
"Have you an alternative suggestion, Mr Alexander?" Margo said.

"We could all stay together, dame," Xander said, picking up the last éclair. "It worked last night."

"We can kill more demons if we split into two groups," Margo said.

"There are thirty-five different ways we could do that evenly, dame," Willow said. "Why—"

"Buffy and Mr Giles must stay together," Margo said. "That leaves fifteen ways. My aides and I can not all be in the same party, since that would leave the other party unobserved, which rules out another three options. Having you, Mistress Cordelia, and Mistress Willow in the same group with only one watcher to safeguard you would be excessively dangerous, leaving only nine options, all of which are variants on one of two options: two of you accompany my two aides or one aide and myself. Either way the third spends the evening with Mr Giles and Buffy, surely no hardship."

"The groups need not be evenly divided, Dame Margo," Giles said.

"Four each sounds good," Cordelia said, before Margo could start ruling out more options. Margo's original proposal sounded good too, but not for any reason she could admit to.

Xander looked thoughtfully at Cordelia as he bit into the éclair, cream splurting over his hands.

"Five-three would be more effective, Dame Margo," Giles said. "If we were to do it your way, Willow would not be able to contribute anything. Keeping her safe—"

"I do not view Mistress Willow as an encumbrance," Margo said. "Nor would I endanger her. She will be safer with us, and Buffy, than she would be with my aides."

Biting into her buttered scone, Cordelia looked across the table at Margo. She knew what she'd get out of Margo's proposal, a chance to talk to the Bodsworths openly, but what did Margo get? With Giles watching she wouldn't be able to do anything with Willow.

"Don't you trust them, dame?" Buffy said.

"Their competence is not in question," Margo said. "It is a simple matter of arithmetic. If Agatha is protecting Mr Alexander, and Wilfred is protecting Mistress Cordelia, who then is left to protect Mistress Willow?"

Xander licked a dollop of cream off the back of his hand. "They can fight, dame?"

"Naturally," Margo said. "We still maintain the old standards."

"All watchers must be men of virtue, Dame Margo?" Giles suggested.

"Old, not archaic, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Standing order seventeen, revision three: all sworn watchers must spend at least one night a week unaccompanied in a place known to be frequented by vampires or demons. Had the miscreant Quentin done so, he might not have fallen into error."

Buffy looked expectantly at Cordelia.

"No, Dame Margo," Giles said. "He might have died instead. That order was repealed for a reason."

"The reasons were insufficient, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Or do you consider the training exercises you were given adequate preparation for the hellmouth?"

"There may be room for improvement, Dame Margo," Giles conceded, "but needlessly endangering lives would not be an improvement."

Cordelia glanced at Xander, who nodded.

"The old policy saved lives, Mr Giles," Margo said, "lives of the innocents whom we are sworn to protect, and it kept the watchers from becoming chateau generals. The new policy makes it a little too easy for watchers to evade their duty."

"The new policy saves more lives, Dame Margo," Giles said. "If I were to regularly go hunting vampires alone, I would soon die, leaving Buffy watcherless for weeks, during which many more innocents would die than I could hope to save."

"An excessively pessimistic view, Mr Giles. Agatha and Wilfred have been doing that for forty years, and they still live. The odds cannot be so bad as you suppose."

Cordelia ostentatiously looked at the empty plates, waiting for the right moment.

"They were not on the hellmouth, Dame Margo,"

"Looks like we've all finished eating," Cordelia said, smiling brightly. "Shouldn't we be getting ready?"

"We should, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "If you and Mistress Willow would follow Agatha?"

Cordelia stood up.

"What about me?" Buffy said as Willow stood up.

"I believe we decided last night you would do your duty your way," Margo said. "Neither of us needs to change. Mr Giles, if you and Mr Alexander would care to follow Wilfred?"

"Come along, ladies," Agatha said. "We have no time to waste."

Scowling, Cordelia followed Agatha out of the room and down the corridor.

"Why do you like Margo's plan?" Willow said. "You want to spend the night with Xander?"

"And the Bodsworths?" Cordelia said. "Hardly. This way you get to spend all night asking questions and I don't have to listen to the answers."

Agatha sniffed disdainfully. "With an attitude like that, you will not last long. One should always be willing to learn."

"I am," Cordelia said, provided it was useful, "but it's a lot easier to learn to in a quiet library than out on the streets."

"Sometimes," Agatha said, opening the changing room door. "Tonight's lessons are best learned in the field."

"You're going to teach us something?" Cordelia said, walking over to her bag.

"That depends entirely on you," Agatha said, closing the door behind Willow.

There wasn't much chance of Xander learning much then, which was good. Before he learned how to fight, he would need to learn when not to, despite all that testosterone sloshing around his system.

Willow laughed. "She'll not learn anything then."

"I understand cheerleaders can be quite gymnastic," Agatha said, sounding faintly disapproving.

Smiling, Cordelia carefully lifted the clothes out of her bag; midnight blue jeans, dark grey t-shirt, bottle green jacket, they should help her hide in the shadows, and they weren't monochrome.

"Not in—" Willow said. "What!"

Cordelia quickly turned round, and blinked.

Agatha had taken her blouse off, revealing her injuries.

The biggest scar ran from her navel straight up to her throat, stopping just short of her neckline; other scars, most only a few inches long but some nearly as big, criss-crossed her moon-white skin; and everywhere, there were puncture marks, little circular dints left by fang and claw.

Agatha undid her skirt, letting it drop to the floor.

There were more scars on her legs, one of them completely circling her right thigh.

"How?" Cordelia gasped, too surprised to form a proper question.

"Dame Margo did tell you," Agatha said. "Once a week I patrol solo, as I have for forty years."

Brave but foolish, if this was the result. Agatha must have been near death dozens of times.

"That's two thousand nights," Willow said, looking closely at Agatha. "You don't have two thousand scars."

"No," Agatha said. "Most of these scars are decades old. Experience is the best teacher."

"And the newest?" Cordelia said challengingly.

Agatha pointed to a small scar half-hidden by her bra.

"I got this two years ago, and that was my first injury in three years. A vampire pulled a knife on me, I pulled a stake on him, up through the stomach. As long as it pierces the heart, it doesn't matter where it pierces the skin."

But going in at an angle would make it much more difficult to aim. Pulling off that trick would require years of practice, which Agatha had clearly had. Cordelia looked again at the scars. Agatha must be pretty good at the slaying, for a non-slayer, but at what price? How often had she come near death, before she'd learnt how to fight well?

Giles was right; Margo's methods put lives at risk, for no good reason. Patrolling solo was pointless machismo, groups of four or five watchers would be both safer and more effective. Nor should watchers have to learn how to fight out on the streets. If they really needed to, they should practice in controlled conditions, until they were good enough to go out patrolling without getting covered in scars.

And they shouldn't still be doing it when they were Agatha's age. She did look fit, fitter than Willow, but she was over sixty. She should be sitting in a rocking chair with a cat on her knee, handing out chocolates to her grandchildren, not risking her life in dark alleys. Margo expected too much.

"You don't have any scars on your face or hands," Willow said. "Why?"

"Dame Margo removed those," Agatha said, unfolding her grey outfit. "The rest I kept, as a badge of honour."

Why? Did the old watchers regularly strip naked to—

Frowning, Cordelia pushed away that repulsive image.

"She good at medicine?" Willow said.

"She is an alchemist," Agatha said. "There is little she cannot heal, given time, so tonight you need not fear injury. Even if you should lose an hand, Dame Margo will make it grow back."

"Is that likely?" Cordelia said, glaring sceptically at Agatha. Regrowing a lost hand would not make up for the pain of losing it, and it would probably grow back weird, with the hellmouth twisting the magic.

"Are you afraid of—"

"You will not let that happen," Cordelia said firmly, an aggressive stance, but it didn't matter if she annoyed Agatha now. The agreement with Margo ensured she'd have to co-operate anyway, and being firm now should encourage the Bodsworths to think of her as an equal, who needed to be treated with respect, not as a child they could push around.

"You would learn—"

"Teaching us self-defence is Giles's reponsibility," Cordelia said. "Shall I tell him you are infringing on his prerogatives?"

"No," Agatha said, "but—"

"We are not going to learn your way," Cordelia said. "We will learn Giles's way."

"Well, if you wish to avoid—"

"You can't talk your way round me. You can give us some useful tips, if you like, the way Giles would, but that's all. We will not let you toss us in the deep end, the way you were."

Cordelia did not want to end up festooned with scars.

"Your description of the traditional methods is not entirely accurate," Agatha said. "I did have some training before I took my oaths."

"Starting with how to run?" Willow said. "It looks like you needed more practice. Is that what you're teaching us?"

Cordelia mentally winced. She'd forgotten what Margo had told them yesterday, and overstated her case. Not by much, but she couldn't afford that kind of slip up.

"No amount of practice can substitute for the reality," Agatha said. "Mr Giles will be setting you a training schedule to increase your overall fitness, but since you three are already facing the reality Dame Margo has decided you cannot afford to wait for that before beginning your self-defence training. Do you disagree?"

"What, exactly, are you suggesting?" Cordelia asked.

"My husband and I will demonstrate how a non-slayer can fight, and critique your performance should you be forced to defend yourself," Agatha said. "But we will do all we can to prevent that necessity. However, there can be no guarantees. If you value your skin above the good of the world, you are in the wrong place."

"Do not question my integrity," Cordelia said. "I have already risked my life for the greater good. We both want the same things; we only disagree about how to get them."

"So long as we understand each other," Agatha said, looking sternly at Cordelia.

Cordelia smiled serenely, trying to unsettle Agatha. "I think we do."

"Are you two going to get changed?" Willow said, "Or are you going out dressed like that?"

------------

Wilfred jabbed the vampire in the groin with his cane.

It staggered backwards, into Agatha, who clubbed it over the head with her fan.

The vampire winced, then bared its teeth.

Raising his cane, Wilfred stepped forward, and pressed the trick button.

The vampire imploded.

Cordelia smiled. Buffy would have been quicker, but the Bodsworths were pretty good themselves; Giles too, of course, but he didn't get many chances to show off.

"Mr Alexander," Wilfred said. "How did we defeat that vampire?"

"You tripped him with your cane, then Mrs Agatha elbowed him in the back, then you—"

"I do not need a blow-by-blow recounting," Wilfred said. "What were our winning tactics?"

Xander frowned, thinking.

Agatha looked at Cordelia. "Where do young people congregate in this town?"

"Now we've burned the Bronze down? Aura said she was trying the Adelphi, three blocks that way."

It was only half the size of the Bronze, and the music there was awful, but it was the best place left, outside the university district.

"You stayed out of reach," Xander said as they all began walking. "Either behind it, or three foot in front. These canes are good for that."

They were, but Xander still looked odd carrying one, too conspicious for normal nights.

"Correct," Wilfred said. "You should always endeavour to keep these creatures at arms length. Did you observe anything else?"

Cordelia had, but she'd seen a lot more fights than Xander. He would need a gentle hint. "What was he aiming at?"

"The heart," Xander said. "Wh— Oh!"

He smiled. "You were trying to cripple him first. You kept going for the joints."

Wilfred nodded. "Breaking a vampire's kneecaps doesn't kill it, but it does make it easier to kill. The ankles, hamstrings and shoulders are also choice targets; the eyes too, but they are harder to hit."

"Buffy doesn't fight like that," Xander said.

"She doesn't need to," Agatha said. "We lack her strength and speed. We must substitute ruthlessness."

Xander frowned uncertainly, then shook his head. "So, what has the dame told you about us?"

Cordelia suppressed a sigh. Xander really did need some lessons in subtlety, and soon.

"She has told us of the arrangement of the treaty she made with you," Agatha said, "and of our obligations under it."

"She hasn't told us why," Wilfred said. "We don't need to know."

Xander smiled. "You mean she doesn't trust you with her long term plans?"

"We're the ones who will execute them," Wilfred said. "You will not cozen them out of me so easily."

"You meant you don't know why us," Cordelia said, giving him a gentle warning.

Wilfred's eyebrows twitched. "Well observed. At first glance neither of you would seem able to fulfil her expectations, but Dame Margo is never wrong. I can only presume you have hidden depths."

Xander scowled. "What expectations? If she's got plans for us she should tell us what they are."

Too blunt. Cordelia was sure she could persuade the Bodsworths to talk, eventually, but it would take months, maybe years.

"She wants you to do well," Agatha said. "Ideally, you would be feared by demons everywhere, and respected by all watchers. Do you have any problems with that?"

It wasn't a career Cordelia had ever imagined for herself, but world-wide respect was tempting, even if only in a small circle.

Xander smiled. "She thinks we could do that?"

"You will have our backing," Agatha said, "and whatever hidden advantages you may enjoy."

Tempting for Cordelia, but what did Margo gain? If Cordelia did well, it wouldn't help Margo revive her old-fashioned ideals; it would make Giles look good, sealing the doom of those ideals.

Xander glanced sideways at Cordelia. "You know you can't make us puppets?"

"We know," Wilfred said. "We will not—"

Ahead, someone screamed.

Pulling out their crossbows, the Bodsworths sprinted off toward the sound.

Xander followed them, Cordelia two steps behind him.

More screams echoed down the alley.

After sixty yards Xander slowed down, audibly struggling for breath.

Cordelia slowed, matching his speed.

"Buffy!"

That was Harmony, in trouble. Cordelia speeded back up.

"Buffy!" Harmony shouted again.

Corcelia could see her now, Harmony and two other girls, Aura and Gwen. They were up against the left-hand wall, with two men, probably vampires, pawing them, and Harmony was pulling something out of her handbag, a cross.

In the shadows, something giggled.

With ten yards to go Wilfred stopped, and fired his crossbow.

The bolt smashed into the nearer vampire's hip.

Letting go of Aura it stumbled backwards, half-turning to face Wilfred, busily reloading his crossbow.

Agatha fired.

The vampire dusted, pierced through the heart.

The second vampire looked up, surprised. "Who are—"

Wilfred's bolt smashed through its left cheek, burying itself deep in the vampire's skull.

The vampire fell back against the wall, then slumped to the ground next to Aura, pulling feebly at the arrow.

"Wait here," Agatha said as Cordelia reached her. "There's something in that doorway."

"Get away from us," Harmony said, kicking the vampire in the stomach, then whacked it in the face with her cross.

Groaning, the vampire crawled away from her, toward Cordelia.

"It's over," Harmony said, smiling reassuringly at Aura and Gwen. "The bad men …"

"Enough," a shrill voice said from the doorway. "Who dares harm my slaves?"

"Show yourself," Wilfred said.

The demon hopped out of the doorway.

Agatha laughed contemptuously.

"I am the great and powerful Rhunsp," the demon said. "Look upon me and know fear."

It didn't look great and powerful; it looked like a deformed toad; three foot tall, with only one leg, and two long tentacles sprouting from its back.

"Do you do tricks?" Cordelia did, a sneer in her voice. Refusing to be intimidated should throw this little demon off-balance.

"Look upon me and know fear," Rhunsp repeated. "I am the stuff of your nightmares."

Finally catching up with Cordelia, Xander laughed. "I've seen more frightening things than you in the school canteen."

"Why are you not cowering?" Rhunsp said. "You should be wailing, and gnashing your teeth, and beating your heads upon the ground, and—"

"Pathetic, much?" Cordelia said. Those two vampires must have been very feeble, to have been working for this creature.

"Revenant spawn of the deathgate, we—"

Mid-sentence, Agatha fired her crossbow, aiming at Rhunsp's head.

It batted the bolt away with its left tentacle. "Deathgate? What deathgate?"

"You didn't come through the deathgate?" Wilfred said, firing his crossbow.

The second vampire dusted.

"My slaves drove me here," Rhunsp said, idly tapping its tentacles together. "They were taking me to LA. I only stopped here because they were getting thirsty."

Cordelia frowned. Rhunsp could be lieing, of course, but it didn't have any reason to. More likely, it was a small-town demon, drawn to Sunnydale by the strengthening hellmouth.

If she'd still had death sight she could have been certain, but Margo had refused to do that spell tonight, saying she wanted to know how Cordelia and Xander performed without artificial enhancement.

Rhunsp stiffened, then pointed its right tentacle at Cordelia. "You're the slayer, aren't you. That's why you're not scared. Shouldn't you be bigger?"

"They're trainee watchers," Agatha said. "How would you like to die? Fast, or slowly?"

"I will not die tonight," Rhunsp said. "I shall rip off …"

While Rhunsp was ranting Wilfred discreetly whispered in Xander's ear.

"Follow his lead," Agatha whispered. "He's got a plan."

"… can't hurt you now," Harmony said, still looking at Aura and Gwen.

They both nodded, then straightened themselves up and walked away, toward the Adelphi.

Harmony scowled at Cordelia, then turned and followed the other girls.

Wilfred looked at Agatha, then shrugged his left shoulder.

Cordelia tapped Xander on the shoulder, catching his attention, then quietly mouthed, "What's the plan?"

Agatha and Wilfred both edged forwards, Agatha drifting to the right, Wilfred, to the left.

Xander pointed at Cordelia, drew a half circle with his forefinger, then closed his hand into a fist.

Rhunsp's right tentacle lashed out, grabbing Wilfred by the legs and pulling him down.

Cordelia winced, and started forward, but Xander shook his head.

Rhunsp rolled Wilfred along the ground, pulling him first this way, then that but never lifting him off the ground — fast, then, but not very strong.

Seemingly emotionless, Agatha continued sidling round Rhunsp.

Wilfred slid his hand half way along his cane.

Rhunsp's left tentacle lashed out, dragging Agatha down.

Wilfred jabbed his cane into the right tentacle.

As Rhunsp screamed Agatha slashed at its right tentacle.

"Now!" Xander said.

Cordelia nodded. Rhunsp had its tentacles full with the Bodsworths; it couldn't stop her getting past, and behind was the best direction to attack from. It wouldn't be able to bite her them; it would barely be able to see her.

Holding his cane in front of him, Xander walked slowly forwards.

Cordelia sprinted past him, raising her fan.

"No!" Xander shouted.

Rhunsp flicked out its tongue, wrapping it round her waist and yanking her forwards.

Cordelia groaned, realising she should have expected this from a demon toad. Everyone knew toads had long tongues —

— but they only had one tongue each. The plan could still work.

Cordelia tucked her left hand inside her jacket, then grabbed the tongue with it.

"Cordy," Xander said, looking uncertainly at the tongue as he stepped towards her. "I—"

"Go for it," Cordelia said, pointing down the alley with her fan. "I'm OK."

Rhunsp tugged at her waist, and she fell forwards, landing heavily on her knees.

Xander took another step towards her, but Cordelia glared at him and pointed again. "Go!"

His obvious concern was heartwarming, but not helpful. If he wanted to help her, he should go and kill the demon.

Xander looked at Cordelia a moment longer, then turned back to face Rhunsp.

Cordelia gritted her teeth, mentally preparing herself. This wasn't going to be pleasant, but she'd have to look at what she was doing, or risk slicing up her own hand.

Xander ran down the alley, heading for the gap between Rhunsp and Agatha.

Cordelia raised the fan in her right hand, pressing the trick button, then brought it down on the tongue, hard.

Blood oozed out, thick and warm.

Rhunsp convulsed, dragging Cordelia forwards.

Xander jumped over the tentacle.

Rhunsp flicked up a loop of tentacle, hooking Xander's foot.

Xander fell heavily, landing on his stomach, one arm under him, the other outstretched.

Cordelia slashed at the tongue again.

Moaning, Xander lifted his head.

Rhunsp dragged her further forward.

She could feel her knees scraping along the ground now, even through the denim.

Ignoring the pain, Cordelia began sawing at the tongue.

Xander crawled a few feet down the alley, behind Rhunsp and away from its tentacles, then struggled upright, with the help of the cane.

More blood oozed out, slowly flowing down Cordelia's sleeve and dripping off her elbow.

Cordelia gagged, but did not falter. If she stopped now Rhunsp might stick its tongue down her front, or round her neck. Worse, it might strangle Xander in front of her. She would have to watch him die, knowing it was her fault for being too squeamish.

After a few seconds Xander straightened up and looked at Rhunsp.

Laughing, Agatha sliced a chunk off the tentacle wrapped round her waist, then knocked it sideways, right under Rhunsp's eyes.

Rhunsp shuddered, its tongue tightening round Cordelia's waist.

Xander lunged forwards, stabbing down with his cane.

The spike slid out, scratching a line down Rhunsp's right flank, then slid off.

Xander stumbled, then steadied himself.

Rhunsp lurched sideways, to its left, dragging Wilfred after it.

"Aim for the base of the skull," Wilfred shouted, his voice unruffled.

"And I was going to give it flowers," Xander said, not taking his eyes off Rhunsp.

"In your own time, Mr Alexander," Agatha said. "I'm sure Mistress Cordelia can endure a little while longer."

Xander lightly touched the cane to the back of Rhunsp's neck, then leaned on it, his weight driving the spike in.

Howling in agony, Rhunsp unwound its tongue from Cordelia's waist, but she didn't let go. She couldn't, or it might be able to use it against Xander.

Struggling with the Bodsworths, Rhunsp pulled its left tentacle free, and reached up.

Xander pushed the cane further in.

Rhunsp collapsed, blood pouring from its eyes.

Cordelia released its tongue, and checked herself for injuries.

"You OK, Cordy?" Xander said.

"Grazed knees," Cordelia said. Rhunsp had ripped a hole in her jeans, dragging her round like that, but it hadn't been squeezing hard enough to bruise, and the jacket sleeve had protected her hand. "You?"

Xander rubbed his shoulder. "Just bruises."

"You need more practice falling," Wilfred said as Agatha helped him up. "You want to carve, dear?"

"It's your turn," Agatha said, handing him her fan, then looked at Xander's uncomprehending face. "We don't know Rhunsp's species, so we have to remove all major organs, and burn them, to be safe."

"Here?" Xander said. "Now? Buffy never does that."

"Naturally," Agatha said. "She has Mr Giles to do that for her; hopefully, out of her sight. The slayer should not have to concern herself with such distasteful necessities."

Agatha paused, and pulled two packets out of her sleeve.

"Here," she said, tossing one to Cordelia, the other to Xander. "You can be cleaning yourself up, unless you'd rather watch the dissection?"

Cordelia caught the packet, plain white tissues, and shook her head.

"We did frogs in biology the other week," Xander said, a faint tremor in his voice.

Agatha shrugged, then knelt over the corpse. "Try a ventral …"

Ignoring her, Cordelia walked over to Xander and smiled. "Your first kill. How's it feel?"

It wasn't really, but Xander hadn't meant to kill Jesse. Killing on purpose was different.

Xander glanced down at Wilfred, cutting open the corpse, then quickly looked away. "It's … messier than I expected. Is there always this much blood?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Every demon is different."

Or so Giles had said once. She didn't actually have much more experience with demons than Xander, but sounding as though she had could prove useful.

"You're good at this, aren't you," Xander said, staring at her face. "You looked … magnificent, like Buffy."

Carefully overlooking the accidental insult, Cordelia smiled. "You looked pretty good yourself."

After a moment's silence, Xander blinked, then smiled back.

------------

The vampire punched Cordelia in the stomach.

Winded, she staggered backwards, until the wall stopped her.

Xander jabbed it in the ribs with his cane.

The vampire spun round, growling.

Cordelia looked frantically round the alley.

The Bodsworths couldn't help, too busy fighting the other vampire.

No crates, so she couldn't improvise a stake.

Buffy must be at least five blocks away and in combat, judging from the rainbow flares Margo was sending up. She wouldn't be able to help in time, even if she did hear Cordelia shouting.

The vampire grabbed Xander by the arm and threw him against the wall.

Xander slumped down, his head lolling to one side.

Cordelia would have to kill this vampire herself, or watch it kill Xander.

The vampire laughed. "Pathetic mortals, you can't hope to defeat me, who was the terror of Rome uncounted centuries before your birth."

"One century, and you were only there two weeks before the priests drive you out."

"An—" the vampire said, and imploded.

Smiling, Angel pulled his stake out of the cloud of dust. "Josiah never could count."

"Some help would be appreciated," Agatha said, rolling out of the way of the vampire's kick.

"They're watchers," Cordelia warned Angel. "Help them."

Angel looked at her, then ran to join the fight.

Cordelia turned and looked at Xander, still slumped against the wall. There were no obvious new injuries, just the nascent bruises from earlier fights, and the rips in his t-shirt where the last demon had clawed at his chest, but shouldn't he have been moving by now?

Opening his eyes, Xander jumped to his feet.

"How—" Cordelia began, then glared accusingly at him, realising the truth. "You were faking."

Xander smiled. "Lure the vamp in, then catch him off guard."

That sounded clever, but all he'd done was worry her. Cordelia scowled, and looked away.

The other vampire backed away from Angel, onto the spike of Wilfred's cane.

"A workable strategy," Wilfred said, looking curiously at Angel, "but it was not appropriate in this case. You are not sufficiently competent to fight a vampire close-up, and you had not warned us in advance. We might have needlessly placed ourselves in danger to rescue you."

"You're only supposed to deceive the enemy," Cordelia added, "not your friends."

Admittedly, there were times when it was necessary to, but not in the middle of a fight.

Xander nodded, accepting the reprimand.

Cordelia smiled briefly, then hurried over to the Bodsworths. She couldn't afford to leave them alone with Angel, they might work out who he was, and she needed to warn him to stay away from Margo.

"I do not believe we have been introduced to this gentleman," Wilfred said, looking at Angel.

"He's Angel, and he's on our side," Cordelia said. "Angel, they are Wilfred and Agatha Bodsworth, the aides of Dame Margo fforbes-Hamilton."

"An interesting name," Agatha said. "Family or Christian?"

"More of a nickname," Angel said, shifting uneasily. "Where's Buffy?"

"With the dame," Xander said, coming up behind Cordelia. "Got another message for her?"

"The annointed one has survived," Angel said. "Shouldn't you be with Buffy, or at home. It's—"

"Dame Margo considered this the optimum arrangement," Agatha said. "Do you wish to question her judgement?"

"No," Cordelia mouthed.

Angel frowned. "Who's Margo?"

"Show proper respect for your elders, lad," Wilfred said, lightly tapping Angel's chest with his cane.

Angel pushed the cane away.

"She is a senior watcher," Cordelia said. "Her slayer was Helga, died eighty years ago. Remember her now?"

"Helga? She was a good slayer, died in Flanders. Shouldn't her watcher be dead by now?"

"The dame's an alchemist," Xander said, coming up behind Cordelia. "And she's given herself magic powers."

"Last night she gave us death sight," Cordelia added, seizing the opening. "We could see undead stuff, even through walls, and recognise vampires miles off. Dame Margo can see like that all the time."

Xander smiled. "Did you see that big magic explosion last night?"

"That was Margo?" Angel said, his eyes widening.

"Angel, you will speak of her with proper respect," Wilfred said, tapping his cane on Angel's chest again.

Angel looked down at the cane, then meaningfully at Wilfred.

Cordelia nodded at Angel. "Ngralth made her angry."

"Never annoy a lady," Angel said, smiling. "Why aren't you with her?"

Six blocks east, a pillar of rainbow fire rose into the sky, piercing the clouds, then winked out.

Cordelia closed her eyes, waiting for the afterimages to fade.

"If we were with her," Agatha said, "Dame Margo would have to be more restrained in her use of magic. It is safer for us to fight separately."

"It would be safer—" Angel began, staring eastward.

"But—" Cordelia interrupted

"—for you all to stay home," Angel went on, overriding her. Cordelia and Xander are too young for this; you are too old. Don't the watcher's have a retirement plan?"

Cordelia glared at Angel. If he'd let her finish speaking he'd have been safe, but now she couldn't stop the Bodsworths asking the wrong question.

"Retirement is for cowards," Wilfred said, glaring at Angel. "I will not give up the fight while there is breath in my body. Nor would I demean these two by expecting any less of them."

"They have chosen to join our fight," Agatha said, nodding. "We must respect that choice, and give them the training they need to fight well, as we have given them the weapons."

"The canes?" Angel said. "I remember th—, hearing about them, almost useless. Any competent vampire could snatch it from your hand, and break it. Only the slayer—"

"Try it," Wilfred said. "If it's so easy, snatch this cane from me."

Angel reached out, then hesitated.

"You can't do it, can you?" Agatha said, smiling. "There are protective runes engraved on the handle."

"You mean these are magic?" Xander said, staring at his cane.

"Not in the sense you mean," Wilfred said. "They are protected against theft and breakage. That is all. If any were ever broken by vampires, it's because the watcher was unwilling to pay extra."

"So, you see, your concerns for their safety are misplaced," Agatha said, then smiled. "What of yours? Who are you, that you can walk alone this night and not be afraid?"

"A friend," Angel said.

"How nice for you," Agatha said. "Would you care to answer my question?"

He couldn't, or they'd try and stake him, but Angel hadn't had time to prepare a credible lie, and the Bodsworths would notice any evasion. He was cornered, entirely because he'd failed to follow her lead. Now she'd have to play one of her cards to keep him safe.

"He can't," Cordelia said.

"You know who he is?" Agatha said, looking curiously at Cordelia.

"He's a friend," Cordelia said. "Dame Margo would not be pleased if I told you any more."

"She knows?" Angel gasped.

"No," Cordelia said. "She doesn't want to know. I'm the only one of us who knows."

For now, anyway. She'd have to tell Xander soon, and find a natural-looking way to let the others know, or Buffy might fall in love with him again.

Wilfred glanced at Agatha, who nodded. "If that's good enough for Dame Margo, it's good enough for us."

"Well connected, aren't you?" Angel said, after a moment's thoughtful silence.

Cordelia smiled. "I know a few people."

"Should I help Buffy?" Angel said, and Xander stared.

"Not tonight. It is too dangerous for you," Cordelia said. Too much could go wrong if Margo got her hands on him.

"We'd appreciate your help," Agatha said, "but the longer we spend together, the more likely we are to learn more than we should."

Angel nodded, then turned and walked away, vanishing into the night.

"Is there anyone around here without dark secrets?" Xander said, staring after him.

"Let me think," Cordelia said, her brow furrowed in exaggerated concentration. "You, me, Buffy, … No, I can't think of anyone."

------------

"We should—" Cordelia said two hours later, walking slowly round a corner, then stopped.

Buffy and Giles were a few yards down the street, just as she'd hoped. They both looked a mess; clothes scuffed and torn, dust in their hair, blood drying on their skin, but they were still in better shape than her party.

"Where's Willow?" Xander asked, peering into the darkness.

"Last fight demolished a factory," Buffy said. "We got separated."

Leaving Willow alone with Margo, a suspiciously convenient accident.

Wilfred limped round the corner, leaning on his cane, Agatha on his other arm.

"What happened?" Giles said, rushing forwards.

"He's broken his ankle," Cordelia said, "and Mrs Agatha's broken her arm."

"Then why were you heading this way?" Giles asked. "The hospital—"

"They are only minor fractures," Wilfred said. "Nothing serious."

"I heard your bones crack," Cordelia said tersely. "I've told them they need the hospital, but they refuse to go."

Giles glanced at Cordelia, wincing when he saw her bandage, then looked over at Xander.

"Duty comes before all else," Agatha said. "These trifling injuries are no real impediment."

"With respect," Giles said, "you can not fight with a broken ankle."

He already had, despite Cordelia's objections. Agatha had broken her arm, protecting him.

Really, they should have stopped an hour ago, before they got tired, but the Bodsworths had insisted on fighting on, despite her protests, and in his exhaustion Wilfred had stumbled, mid-fight, breaking his ankle.

Agatha glared at Giles. "Mr Edward Hopkinson—"

"—died the second time he went out patrolling, in his wheelchair. He would have died the first time, had the vampires not been too busy laughing."

"I have never patrolled for less than six hours," Wilfred said. "I am not going to lower my standards now."

"You've never patrolled on a hellmouth before," Giles said, shoving his glasses back. "How vampires do you normally meet each night? One? Two?"

Wilfred nodded.

"How many vampires have we seen tonight?" Cordelia said, looking at Xander. "Thirty?"

Xander nodded confirmation. "At least, and six demons."

"All the more reason to continue until the end," Wilfred said.

"Your dedication is admirable," Giles said, "but flesh and blood do have their limits, and you are not the slayer. You have already done far more than any could ask of you. You need do no more."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Agatha said.

"If anyone dares question your commitment," Giles said, "I will call them out. Call it a night, if not for your sake, for theirs."

"I will not go to the hospital unless you drag me there," Wilfred said. "I know my duty. Nor do these two have any serious injuries. They could fight until dawn, if need be."

In theory, perhaps, if they really needed to, but Cordelia would rather not. Her clothes were ruined, she had bruises everywhere, and — she put her hand to the bandage, checking for bleeding — she had clawmarks under her ribs, from the last demon.

Xander had done better. His t-shirt was shredded, revealing a chest covered in bruises, and he had a few scratches, but nothing major.

"Buffy," Giles said. "Could you pick Mr Bodsworth up?"

Buffy smiled. "Tie them up, and I could carry them both."

"About time," Xander muttered, and Cordelia nodded. She'd been half-thinking about doing that herself, but she wasn't strong enough to restrain Wilfred and Agatha, even with Xander's help.

"You can't ask her to do that," Wilfred protested. "It's beneath her dignity."

"If you will not walk, you will be carried," Giles said, bending down to look at Cordelia's bandage. "For your own good. Do you know what did this?"

"Lurgnard did," Agatha said. "He doesn't use poison."

Giles nodded. "Did you use any antiseptic?"

"Iodine," Cordelia said accusingly. It might have been the best available when Agatha learnt first aid, forty years ago, but times had changed. There had to be a less uncomfortable alternative, for people not stuck in the fifties.

"Should be OK," Giles said, "but I'd like to get it looked at."

"Dame Margo will take care of all these trifling injuries," Agatha said. "We need not trouble the hospital."

Giles looked left, then right. "She doesn't seem to be here. If she can cure us, good. Until then, we need medical attention. Do you want to walk, or to be carried?"

"What about Willow?" Xander said. "We can't—"

"Willow can wait," Giles said. "Dame Margo won't let anything harm her. These three need medical attention, now."

Wilfred met Giles's gaze a moment, then sighed, a tired old man, leaning on his cane. "I'll walk."


	17. Cordelia's Ghost: A new weapon

"You sure you want to get out here?" Joyce said. "Not the mall?"

Cordelia smiled. "There's a jeweller's opposite."

And a realtor's was next to it, not the kind of place she normally went shopping, but Margo was paying.

Joyce nodded. "Buffy? Don't you want to look?"

"Not now," Buffy said flatly. "I'm meeting Willow in the mall."

"You sure you'll be OK by yourself?" Joyce said, glancing meaningfully at Buffy. "You've been ... quiet all morning. If something's upsetting you..."

"I was thinking about Angel," Cordelia said, before Joyce could get too motherly. How much should she tell Xander, and when? He needed to know Angel was a vampire, but if he learned too much his jealousy would get in the way.

That wasn't what had been preoccupying her though. Angel was important, like the hyenas, and Margo, and the strengthening hellmouth, but none of that was personal. Harmony was.

"Angel?" Joyce said.

"Just this guy we know," Buffy said too quickly, twisting round in her seat to glare at Cordelia.

Joyce glanced at Buffy again, this time suspiciously.

Good. Joyce wouldn't be able to stop Buffy falling for Angel, but she might be able to help keep those two apart, now she had a motive. Even if she couldn't, if she only delayed Angel's happiness by a few days, that would be a few days without Angelus, well worth it.

"Can we go?" Buffy said, "before you get a ticket."

"You'll phone when you want picking up?" Joyce said, looking back at Cordelia.

Cordelia nodded, tapping the slight bulge of her cell phone as she opened the car door, and got out, closing the door behind her — a little abrupt, but Joyce was too distracted to notice and Cordelia had an appointment to keep.

Joyce reversed out into the traffic, then drive off, a faintly harried look on her face.

Outside the jeweller's, Xander waved.

Cordelia checked the traffic — still light, this early in the morning, half the shops weren't open yet — then hurried across, before he could attract too much attention. Fortunately, Buffy hadn't recognised him, probably because she wasn't expecting him to be dressed like that.

"You noticed the limo?" Xander said, tugging at his collar.

"It is rather difficult to miss," Cordelia said dryly. "Wilfred's getting out now, and you can undo that top button."

"We're pretending he's our attorney, right?" Xander said, unfastening the button.

"He is the trust's attorney," Cordelia said, stepping back to look at Xander. "No pretence."

He was wearing the suit Margo had given him for the ceremony, without the tie, a bit more formal than Cordelia would have picked for this meeting, but it was the only suit he had, and a lot better than the clothes he normally wore. Had he turned up in those, the realtor would never have believed Xander was a serious buyer.

Dressed like this, he looked as wealthy as Cordelia herself, someone who could afford to throw away the amount of money Margo was spending on this scheme.

"Good morning," Wilfred said, stopping to look in the jeweller's window. "Do you both know what you are doing?"

"Buying a secret lair," Xander said. "Think they've got any caves?"

"I'm sure they've got plenty," Cordelia said. "All full of vampires. We're looking for somewhere safe."

"In this town?" Xander said, smiling sceptically.

"Indeed," Wilfred said, reaching into his jacket. "Even if you stay above ground, you may still encounter vampiric squatters. These should prove useful."

"Water pistols?" Cordelia said, as Wilfred pulled them out. They were a strange design; mostly wood, embossed with silver, and decorated with three crystals, but they were the right shape.

Wilfred nodded. "Holy water. It should have enough deterrence value to cover your retreat."

Xander grabbed the first pistol

"Until the water runs out," Cordelia said, taking the other one. Really, if there was any risk of vampires they should sending Buffy in first, but then she'd start wondering why Cordelia and Xander were buying an apartment together. The conclusion was obvious, and not one Cordelia wanted drawn.

"Dame Margo is an alchemist," Wilfred said. "These pistols can temporarily transform air to water, creating quite large volumes quite quickly. Contact with the sacred relics embedded within them then blessed the water, before it is ejected at high speed."

Cordelia frowned, remembering. "Relics? You mean the bones of a saint?"

"Not all relics are osseous," Wilfred said. "Each pistol contains fragments from a sword, wielded by many slayers."

Xander smiled. "Got one for Buffy?"

"She is the slayer," Wilfred said. "With her prowess she does not need to take the risk of using such weapons."

"What risk?" Cordelia said sharply.

"Elemental transmutation requires the manipulation of considerable energies," Wilfred said. "If the components should become misaligned, those energies would be released with explosive force."

"Is that likely?" Cordelia asked, knowing the answer would be 'Yes'.

"Those pistols are new," Wilfred said. "Wear and tear should not be a problem until they've been used for at least two dozen hours."

"But?" Cordelia prompted.

"However," Wilfred said, smiling faintly. "Any sharp knock could set them off. If you drop one, dive for cover, and pray."

"How big an explosion?" Xander said, looking suspiciously at his pistol.

Wilfred shrugged. "Relatively small. If you could conceal them about your person, we can begin this morning's business."

"Can't we have something that won't explode?" Cordelia said, something that wouldn't be more dangerous to her than to her enemies.

"Your aim is too poor to use a crossbow without backup," Wilfred said. "You will be safer with these than you would trying to tackle a vampire bare-handed."

"Not feeling reassured," Cordelia said, glaring at Wilfred. "Any other special features we should know about?"

"They have variably anisotropic inertia," Wilfred said, then, seeing their blank faces, added. "That means they don't have any kick."

Smiling at Cordelia, Xander tucked his pistol in his jacket. "I can carry yours for you."

He could, but she'd still get hurt if it exploded, and it would be harder to get at if she needed it.

"I'll carry it," Cordelia said grudgingly, slipping it into her handbag, "but there should be a safer alternative."

"I'm sure Dame Margo will be interested in your criticisms of her labours," Wilfred said. "You two should lead."

Cordelia nodded, ignoring the crude threat, then strode past him, and into the realtor's.

"Can we help you?" the receptionist said, looking doubtful.

Xander followed Cordelia in, Wilfred a step behind him.

"We sent you a letter of instruction yesterday," Cordelia said, with all the hauteur she could muster. "Did you not receive it?"

Wilfred coughed diffidently. "The Maxted-Turton trust?"

The receptionist smiled, pressing a button on his desk. "Mr Beedon will see you immediately."

"I believe you mean we will see him immediately," Cordelia corrected.

Xander frowned, shuffling uneasily.

"Of course, Miss," the receptionist said. "He's coming now."

"He should have been waiting for us," Cordelia said, "or does he not value our custom?"

"Sorry, sorry," Beedon said, striding briskly across his office, hand outstretched. "Tax returns."

"I quite understand," Wilfred said, smiling, and nudged Xander forwards.

Smiling broadly and burbling inanities, Beedon shook hands with Xander then Cordelia.

"Is everything ready?" Wilfred said. "We do have a rather tight deadline."

"Tax reasons, wasn't it?" Beedon said. "I'm in the same boat."

Wilfred raised one eyebrow. "I suspect you don't have quite the same potential liabilities. If contracts are not exchanged by noon—"

"Not a problem," Beedon said. "Everything's arranged. All the vendors are standing by their phones, waiting for your decision, and—"

"Then," Wilfred said, "shall we begin?"

* * *

"Cordy," Xander said, once she'd got in the limo, "did you have to be so—" 

"Tough?" Cordelia suggested, then glanced at the driver. The limo company had supplied him, so he wasn't likely to be working for anyone else, and the passenger compartment was soundproof anyway. Wilfred was in Beedon's car, keeping him distracted, so no one could eavesdrop. She could talk freely, at last.

The limo drove off, following Beedon to the first apartment.

Cordelia leaned forwards, and lowered her voice; unnecessary, but it would help capture Xander's attention. "What we're doing looks a lot like fraud. One false note, and Beedon will—"

"It's not fraud," Xander said. "The—"

"But it looks like fraud," Cordelia said firmly. "People he's never heard of spending lots of money in a hurry. Business doesn't work like that. He'd have heard of the trust before, it if were real."

"It is real," Xander said. "Margo said the board set it up in the thirties. If Beedon checks up, he'll see everything checks out."

True, but until now the trust had been a dummy, nothing more than a name on a filing cabinet, waiting until some board member needed it as a front. It wouldn't stand up to a proper investigation.

Really, it would have been better if they could have bought the apartment normally, but they didn't have time for that. It was bad enough that they would have to spend ages reading boring books before they could rescue the real Harmony from the soulstorm; wasting weeks on legal and financial niceties would be intolerable, especially for Harmony.

And moving fast would also give Margo a chance to demonproof the place properly, before she died, in itself an advantage worth all the problems speed brought.

It would help if Xander understood those problems though. Then she'd be able to rely on him not to say the wrong thing, and land them all in jail. He might even be able to help.

"If we were fraudsters, everything would seem to check out," Cordelia patiently explained, hoping he'd listen this time. "Until he tried to spend the money we paid him. Then it would all evaporate, leaving him holding the check."

"That why we told him we were cheating on our taxes?" Xander said slowly.

"It's obvious nonsense, if we were really doing that we wouldn't have left it so late, but it would mean Beedon could get a lot of money out of us, so he wants to believe it. As long as we put on a good act, he'll be too busy counting chickens to ask awkward questions."

"You were acting?"

Cordelia nodded. "I've seen my dad do business. I know how these people talk to underlings," like her dad.

Xander frowned uncertainly. "Does it matter what he thinks? We're not—"

"Do you want to have to explain to Buffy why you were arrested on suspicion of fraud?" Cordelia said, smiling sweetly. "Remember, the truth is sub rosa."

"No," Xander said, reluctantly. "But I should be able to. We're all on the same side. We shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other."

They shouldn't have to, but they did, which was not what Xander wanted to hear. Cordelia looked at him, slumped against the limo window, his face regretful, and decided to change the subject. Xander was a good listener, sometimes, and he didn't have her biases.

"Xander," she said slowly, "what do you think about Harmony?"

"Which one?" Xander said. "The real one, or ghost girl?"

"Ghost girl," Cordelia said.

Xander looked at her, then smiled. "What do you think?"

Cordelia hesitated, then admitted. "I don't know. She's done bad things, and I don't like her, but she's me, sort of."

"Must be weird," Xander said sympathetically.

"Confusing," Cordelia said. She'd spent half the night trying to decide how she felt, and concluded only that Margo had bounced them both into acquiescence with her dicta on Harmony. If Cordelia had been allowed time to get over her surprise she'd have—

Well, she still wasn't sure what she'd have decided to do with Harmony, but it wouldn't have been as draconian as Margo's choice. Harmony didn't deserve that kind of treatment, and not just because she was actually a younger Cordelia.

"And I've got to curse her," Xander said, then hesitated. "We'll meet a doll with a human soul, won't we?"

"You know I mustn't talk about the future," Cordelia said reprovingly. That wasn't going to be easy to live with either. Certainly Harmony couldn't keep her stolen body, the real Harmony needed it back, but condemning her to life as a freak didn't feel right.

"I know," Xander said. "Just tell me, did it grow old?"

"No," Cordelia said. Sid could have lived forever if—

And so could Harmony, if they did that to her.

Shocked, Cordelia abruptly straightened up. "She'll be immortal. Same if we stick her in any fake body, I think. Only people grow old. Why would Margo want that? She obviously detests Harmony—"

"And there is an alternative," Xander said. "She said people have been cloned. Clones are human. We could clone you, and put her in that body."

"The perfect solution," Cordelia said. It'd leave everyone in a body that felt like the one they were born with, and it wouldn't make Harmony immortal, which she certainly didn't deserve.

Xander smiled. "That's why you should read comics."

"But Margo must have known this was possible," Cordelia said, thinking aloud. "Even if there's some catch, she can't be certain we won't find a way round it. Why would she want Harmony to be immortal? What is she planning?"

* * *

"You expect people to live here?" Xander said, staring at the wallpaper, apparently picked by the one person with worse taste than even him. Large purple roses alternating with small olive butterflies on a black background had never been fashionable, ever. The bloodstains and tracery of grey rot did hide the worst of the pattern, but an ambience of death was not much of an improvement. 

"It has potential," Cordelia said, smiling brightly at Beedon. "Shall we see what the other rooms are like?"

"I'll show—" Beedon began.

"My clients have no need of your advice," Wilfred said flatly. "We shall stay here, and discuss the details of our arrangement. There are certain points on which ..."

Cordelia smiled, and nudged Xander towards the doorway. That would keep Beedon out of the way, if there were any vampires desperate enough to squat here, and give her more time to talk freely with Xander.

After a moment, Xander smiled and walked briskly through the doorway, brushing aside the cobwebs.

Cordelia followed him down the hallway and into the small kitchen, careful not to step on the dodgier looking floorboards.

"Why the act?" Xander asked.

"Beedon's trying to bounce us," Cordelia explained. "Show us all the bad places first, and when he finally shows us somewhere good we'll be so relieved we'll gladly pay three times the proper price, trebling his commission. It's common practice."

"Learned that at one of your dad's parties?" Xander said, looking thoughtfully at her.

"A few years ago," Cordelia agreed. A realtor had been boasting about his latest coup, indiscreet of him, but he had been drunk, drunk enough to proposition her within earshot of her dad.

Fortunately, the other guests had managed to pull them apart before anyone got seriously hurt.

"We're calling his bluff?" Xander said hesitantly. "If he thinks we might buy this place he won't risk showing us anywhere else like this?"

"You're learning," Cordelia said, smiling. "We spend five minutes in here, then go back to Beedon talking about how much potential this place has."

Xander frowned, then shrugged.

"You didn't sound shocked," he said, resuming their conversation from the limo.

"Autopilot," Cordelia said casually. "Showing weakness in front of Margo would not have been a good idea."

"What about the deal?"

"I still don't see any loopholes."

"But?" Xander prompted.

"She was too willing to make concessions," Cordelia said. "She must have some ulterior motive."

"More secrets," Xander said, sighing. "If she didn't have to make everything so convoluted, Willow and Buffy might be cured by now."

Xander paused, looking thoughtfully at Cordelia. "Can you tell me what happened to them yet?"

"Can you fake surprise convincingly?" Cordelia asked.

"You can cover for me," Xander said. "They're my friends too. I need to know."

"Hyenas," Cordelia said, a risk but worth it. Shared confidences would help bind him to her.

Xander blinked. "Hyenas what?"

"It's not certain yet," Cordelia said, "but they may be possessed by hyena spirits, like you were."

"More possession," Xander muttered. "Do you remember how I was cured."

"I wasn't involved," Cordelia said, and Xander hadn't wanted to talk about the experience. "All I know is you were cured when the zoo keeper was killed, by his own animals."

"We're not killing anyone," Xander said immediately. "There has to be another way."

"Of course," Cordelia said. "Margo'll will know how."

"But we're not allowed to ask her for help," Xander said. "We'll get Giles in trouble."

"Giles isn't allowed to ask for help," Cordelia corrected. "We're not him, and we won't be asking for help. We'll be sticking with our prior agreement."

Which meant Margo's promises should prevent her using that information against Giles.

"Good," Xander said, though he didn't sound reassured. "I want my Willow back. This one keeps staring at me."

* * *

"This property is considerably larger," Beedon said, "and affords ample opportunities for future improvement to the discerning buyer." 

It was too large; Cordelia had only bought a few dozen books, she didn't need an entire mansion to store them in, and a place that size would take too much looking after. She was likely to be spending a lot of time wherever they bought, so it needed to meet her standards of comfort, which would mean employing a few maids and handymen, not a feasible option.

It also had a future. Angel would be living here in a year, if he became Angelus. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen now but it might be best to leave the place empty. Then they'd know where he was if that did go wrong.

And there were other problems.

"My clients shall decide that for themselves," Wilfred said. "Were you to claim an exemption under ..."

"This is more like it," Xander said quietly, as the two of them walked inside. "With a place like this—"

"It's too big," Cordelia said firmly. "We'd attract too much attention."

"You like attention," Xander said, smiling.

"Not this kind," Cordelia said. "What if you give Harmony a helpful curse?"

"Curse her to be helpful?" Xander said. "That—"

"No," Cordelia said. "A blessing in disguise. If you curse her to always know how what other people think about her, she might not like it at first but it'll be good for her in the end."

"You've been thinking about this," Xander said as they went into the next room.

"Of course," Cordelia said. "She was me, once."

"You don't act much like her," Xander said.

"I don't? Goo—" Cordelia paused, glancing sideways at the walls. No sockets in here, so she'd need an electrician too. "I can't have changed that much. It's not been two years."

"Two busy years," Xander said, looking up at the ceiling. "You're still the same most ways, only not. You're, um, facing different directions. You've both got a lot of ... drive. She focuses it on ... social stuff, but the school isn't big enough for her so she's ... you know. You've got a real challenge, something that needs all that drive, so you don't, um, —"

Cordelia waited until she'd got the gist — not how she'd have described herself, or her past self, but Xander should see things more clearly, looking at them from outside — then pointed out a pile of clothes thrown into one corner.

"This house has a future," she said, pulling out her water pistol. What Xander had said was too simplistic to be the whole truth, but it felt true enough to be useful.

"Vampires?" Xander whispered, going to examine the clothes.

"They shouldn't move in for a year," Cordelia said softly.

Xander held up a T-shirt; ripped, with a brown stain near the neck. "Think they're early?"

"No." It was far too soon for Angelus, "but others might have the same taste in housing."

Or the sewers might be full. This mansion had too many windows to be prime vamp territory, unless they were as arrogant as Angelus.

Xander nodded, pulling out his pistol. "On three. One—"

Cordelia scowled. That was not what she'd meant. They should be going for help, not planning to kick down the doors. Storming a vampire nest without Buffy would be near suicidal.

"Two,"

She'd only got her pistol to cover her retreat, in case they got ambushed, but Xander was too eager. He hadn't been doing this long enough to grasp the realities.

She couldn't stop him now though, not without risking a noisy argument, which would attract any lurking vampires, and leave them unprepared for an attack.

Cordelia stepped up to Xander's side.

"Three."

Cordelia gently pushed the door open.

The vampires looked up.

There were four of them sat round a table, playing cards, one male in seventies' fashion, and three females, more fashionably dressed, so probably younger.

Cordelia glanced quickly round the room, checking for other threats; crimson bedsheets tacked in front of the windows, a door leading into the garden, but no sign of any other vampires, or demons.

"Fresh blood," the male snarled. "Our lucky day. Get them, girls."

The three minions jumped to their feet.

"Nice and sunny in here," Cordelia bluffed, stepping backwards, away from the door. The vampires had tacked crimson bedsheets in front of the windows in their den, but they hadn't thought to protect the approaches and, standing in the red-tinted gloom of that room, they shouldn't be able to tell she wasn't in direct sunlight.

The minions hesitated, looking uncertainly at their leader. Definitely young, if they weren't sure of the rules.

Xander raised his pistol.

"The sun can't hurt you inside," the leader lied. "Get them, or I'll kill you myself."

Cordelia raised her pistol, then hesitated. Margo seemed to think it didn't matter if you died, as long as you took enough demons with you. Using a weapon she'd designed might be almost as dangerous as fighting the vampire barehanded.

Xander pressed the trigger.

The crystals lit up; red, green, blue.

The lead vampire dived underneath the table.

With a thunderous roar, water jetted out; not the feeble dribble of a normal water pistol, nor the gentle stream of a fire hose, but a river in full flood, water enough to sweep away an herd of elephant, frothing white with elemental fury.

It hit the leftmost minion full on.

For a split second Cordelia saw its flesh bubbling under the onslaught, then it was gone, killed too fast to scream.

The water pounded on, smashing into — _no, through_ — the floorboards, and vanishing into the cellars.

The other two minions turned to flee.

Cordelia fired, two short bursts.

The dust drifted gently down, settling on the spreading waters.

The lead vampire looked frantically round, then toppled the table.

It hit the floor with a gentle splash.

The vampire stood up, holding the table as a shield.

Grinning maniacally, Xander aimed his pistol at the table.

Behind it, the vampire laughed. "You ca—"

The table cracked.

Water gushed through the gap.

The table fell from the vampire's dissolving hands, splashing up more water.

For a moment the vampire stood there, its face a blistered ruin, then it too was dust.

Xander stopped firing and pretended to blow smoke off the barrel. "We should take these into the sewers. We could—"

"If it were that easy," Cordelia said, "Margo would already have sent her people in to clear them out. There may be demons down there now that could laugh off these pistols."

That, and they were so overpowered they'd be in danger of bringing down the roof if they fired them underground.

"Margo should have given us these pistols last night," Xander said, then looked round the room. "What should we do now?"

"Go and tell Beedon this mansion has a plumbing—"

As Cordelia spoke, the water evaporated, unnaturally fast, the alchemy reversing itself.

"—that it looks like someone broke into this room," Cordelia said quickly, before Xander could suggest checking the other rooms for vampires. "So, you think if we give the old me a real challenge she'll become more reasonable?"

"About the unimportant stuff," Xander said as they walked back towards the front door. "If she sees you as a challenge, nothing would make her back down."

"And she does," Cordelia said, nodding agreement. If someone had stolen her body, nothing short of apocalypse would have stopped her getting it back. "She could become a real problem."

* * *

"This is a good place," Cordelia said. "The right size, a good neighbourhood, and fully furnished. You could use this room for your armoury." 

That had been Xander's sole contribution to the negotiations. Pointless, of course, they had Buffy for the fighting, but he was probably still daydreaming about being the big action hero, rescuing his girls. Still, it wasn't much to ask for, just a few weapons, all safely unmagical, and some space to practice in, so Cordelia had shrugged and added it to the deal.

"It's too close to your house," Xander said. "I still like the mansion best."

"Too large," Cordelia said. "What's wrong with being near my house?"

"Apart from the monster in your basement?"

"It's our town. We shouldn't let a little thing like that frighten us away."

"Little?" Xander said. "You spend much time with Giles in the future?"

Cordelia shrugged noncommittally. "Anyway, we're going to find a way to kill that creature. I will not permit something like that to exist under my house. Do you have any other problems with here?"

"It's too close to your house," Xander repeated. "If I keep coming round here, people will notice."

"They might," Cordelia conceded, though that wouldn't be much of a problem. "And they might notice if we kept visiting the mansion."

Xander frowned thoughtfully. "This is the last place, isn't it?"

"That's what Beedon said," Cordelia confirmed, waiting to see what Xander was thinking.

"Neither of us wants the first house, or the apartment by the university."

Cordelia nodded. The first house needed demolishing, and that apartment was too out of the way. Being full of zombie rats hadn't helped its chances either.

"You don't like the mansion, and I don't like this place," Xander went on. "That leaves the apartment between the shops, and the one opposite the bronze. Any preferences?"

"Toss a coin," Cordelia said, shrugging, then picked up the previous conversation. "If we did the opposite of what we think Margo wants—"

"We'd be doing bad stuff," Xander said, getting out a quarter. "Heads for the bronze?"

"OK," Cordelia said. "Mostly, and she might have anticipated that."

"So whatever we do, she wins," Xander said, tossing the coin. "Does that matter?"

"If we don't want to be her puppets."

"Tails," Xander said. "What matters is doing the right thing. As long as we do that—

"—it doesn't matter if we're also doing what she wants," Cordelia agreed. That wasn't quite true, but as long as she stayed alert to manipulation following their moral compass should be safe enough. "Between the shops it is."

Xander nodded. "Let's tell Beedon. I want to get out of this suit."

"Shouldn't take much longer," Cordelia said, glancing at her watch — eleven thirty, so she'd have all afternoon to be normal. "We've just got to sign some papers."

* * *

An hour later Cordelia got out of the limo, next to the apartment she'd just bought. 

"Our first house," Xander said, joining her at the door, still in his suit, then turned to look at Wilfred. "What's the hurry? Why couldn't I—"

"Dame Margo's instructions are quite clear," Wilfred said, handing Cordelia a bunch of legal papers.

"Bu—" Xander began.

"I would not advise keeping her waiting," Wilfred said, handing Xander a sheet of paper and a piece of chalk. "You will need these."

"She's in there?" Cordelia guessed.

"No," Wilfred said, smiling faintly. "If you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to."

Cordelia looked suspiciously at the door; plain blue, and unmarked.

Shrugging, Xander got out the key.

Cordelia watched nervously as he opened the door, wondering what Margo was planning now.

The hallway still looked the same; white walls, beige carpet.

Cordelia followed Xander inside. "What's that say?"

Xander pushed the door shut behind him, then glanced at the instructions, and blinked. "She wants us to draw on the walls, where we're going to keep the books."

"Why?"

"She doesn't say."

Which left them with no option but to trust Margo, and comply. If they didn't, Margo would not be pleased. Admitting they'd been too nervous to write on a wall would not be an adequate defence, not against Margo's scorn, but that was the only objection they could raise, without knowing her reasons.

Together, they walked down the long hallway, sandwiched between a barbers and a card shop.

This apartment wasn't as good as the house Xander had rejected, no furniture and hardly any windows, but at least it was well concealed.

From the street, it wasn't obvious there was even an apartment here. The door could easily have belonged to either of the neighbouring shops. It was only if someone walked all round the block, counting doors, that they'd realise there was one too many.

They turned right, up the stairs.

They were narrow, hidden inside the back wall of the barbers, and steep. Getting any furniture, or her books, up here would be difficult, but Xander should be strong enough, and the steepness would help if they ever needed to defend the place against demons.

Halfway up the stairs, Cordelia glanced into the rubbish-strewn courtyard.

On three sides, doors opened onto it, from shops using it for deliveries, and for parking, but on the fourth side, the wall was blank, no doors, no windows. On that side there were apartments, perfectly normal apartments with clearly marked entrances on the street below.

Naturally, the people living there wouldn't want a view of this courtyard, so they wouldn't expect windows in their back walls, and neither would the shopkeepers using that courtyard. They'd both expect to see a blank wall, which was exactly what was there. None of them would ever guess what it hid. They'd only find out if they started comparing measurements, and they had no reason to.

They'd never realise that the apartments didn't back onto the courtyard, that there were ninety feet between their back walls and that courtyard, ninety feet into which was squeezed an extra apartment, hidden from prying eyes.

Beedon knew, of course, and a few other people would, but not many.

"Think there are any more like this?" Xander said as they reached the top of the stairs.

"In this town?" Cordelia said. "Not every would-be evil mastermind wants to hide in the sewers."

Admittedly, she'd never actually heard of any other hidden apartments, but there would be too much demand to only build one.

Xander nodded, then they turned left, into the first room, just a few feet from the stairs.

Cordelia glanced round it, a windowless box, lit by four fluorescent lights, with one other door, leading into the kitchen, and no trace of Margo.

Xander glanced at the instructions again. "Says I've got to draw a door on the wall, with a handle, and knock three times. Think it'll open?"

"Yes," Cordelia said, trying to think of a good excuse not to. Doing that didn't make any sense unless the door would open, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know where it would go.

Xander quickly sketched a door on the wall, a slightly crooked rectangle for its outline, and a small circle for its handle, then stood back.

"Ready?" he asked.

Cordelia reluctantly nodded.

Xander knocked once, then twice.

Nothing happened.

Again Xander knocked, and where he hit the wall, it flared with rainbow light.

Ripples danced across the plaster, spreading out from beneath his hand.

Xander stepped quickly backwards.

The ripples reached the chalk outline, then rebounded, travelling inward, and behind them the white plaster darkened, becoming mahogany.

Xander stared at the chalk. "It doesn't look magic."

"Enter," Margo said, and the door swung open.

Cordelia mentally shrugged, and went forwards. It was too late for caution now, and letting Xander go first would look bad.

"Those the legal papers, Mistress Cordelia?" Margo asked.

"Yes, dame," Cordelia said, glancing round the room; bookcases lining the walls, a dozen plush armchairs, each with a footstool and a low table close by, two desks, and, on the opposite wall, glass doors, leading into gloom.

Margo was sitting in the nearest armchair, surrounded by chalk markings, and candles, clear evidence of magic.

"Where are we, dame?" Xander said, looking round. "Another library?"

Behind him, the door swung shut.

"My parlour, Mr Alexander," Margo said.

And Margo was English. Cordelia stared at her a moment, then dashed over to the glass doors.

"That's not in Sunnydale, is it, dame?" Xander said.

"We're in Eyam," Margo said, sounding mildly amused.

"Where's that, dame?" Xander said warily.

Cordelia looked out through the doors.

In the valley below, street lights glimmered in the night, marking a tangle of roads.

Cordelia turned to face Xander, and Margo. "England. We're in England."

Margo had whipped them halfway across the world, without warning, leaving them at her mercy.

"Why?" Xander said. "Dame?"

"So that I can set up the protective wards on your flat, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "I'll need to use those legal papers to stand in its lieu, Mistress Cordelia."

"Do we have to stay, dame?" Xander said, reaching behind him for the door handle.

"That door now leads to my kitchen," Margo said. "Without those papers I could only create a temporary door, and that with not inconsiderable difficulty."

"How do we get back, dame?" Cordelia asked. "We don't have any passports."

"I need another twenty minutes to recover my energies," Margo said. "After that, it'll take another fifty minutes to create a permanent door."

"Why would we want one?" Cordelia said sharply. It'd make it far too easy for Margo's people to interfere. "This was not part of our agreement, dame."

"It is implicit therein, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "You asked for the best security I could provide in the time available. That includes a bolthole. If a god should overwhelm your defences, and it would need a full god to do so, you will be able to flee here."

"But," Cordelia began, marshalling her objections. She wasn't planning on fighting any gods, and—

"No one will be able to use your door, in either direction, without your explicit invitation," Margo said. "It will also be convenient should you wish to talk to my aides, and for transporting the books I'm giving you to your flat."

"OK, dame," Cordelia conceded, "the door can stay. You should have told us what you were planning."

"Why?" Margo said. "Would it have made any difference?"

"You c— shouldn't push us around like this," Xander said, unwisely. "We're not puppets."

"That is why I only make suggestions, Mr Alexander," Margo said.

"An offer you can't refuse," Xander quoted, in a mock Italian accent. "Dame?"

"Hardly," Margo said. "Mr Giles has had no difficulty rejecting my advice."

"He's used to talking to people like you, dame," Xander said.

"I proposed a similar arrangement to ours to Mistress Willow last night," Margo said. "She turned me down."

"Willow, dame?" Cordelia said, surprised. Willow wasn't smart enough to outthink Margo, and she lacked the willpower needed to stand her ground, but she had tried editing her mind the other night, and she was possessed. That might explain it.

On the other hand, Margo had not focused the full force of her personality on Giles, as she had on Harmony. She was holding herself back, sticking to tactics Giles could counter, probably part of her ethical code. If she'd treated Willow the same way, it might conceivably have been a fair contest.

"Do not underestimate her," Margo said. "No one who has lived so long on the hellmouth, and remained sane, can be lightly dismissed."

Margo paused, looking at Cordelia and Xander. "I have been assuming we share the same aims; the protection of the innocent, and the destruction of the enemies of life. Is this not so?"

"We do, dame," Cordelia said, a moment after Xander. They weren't the only things she wanted, but they were the most important.

"Taking my advice is the best way I know to achieve that," Margo said. "Not the only way, but the best. If I failed to offer you it, as persuasively as I can while having regard for your limitations, I would be remiss in my duty. Whether you accept it I leave entirely up to you. I do not tamper with free will."

Cordelia frowned. It sounded like Margo thought she was going easy on them, which did fit her restraint with Giles. It hadn't felt like Margo was going easy but perhaps she was, by her standards. By any normal standard, Margo was diamond hard, a challenge even for Cordelia.

Cordelia wasn't going to whine about that though. Asking Margo to go easy now, after Cordelia had matched her in many a conversation, would look pathetic. Better to change the subject.

"What are we supposed to do while we're waiting, dame?" Cordelia said, trying to wrongfoot Margo. It wouldn't be much of a victory, but it would still help.

"Read," Margo said, gesturing at the bookcases.

"De magicis artibus et cubiculi?" Xander said, glancing at the nearest bookcase. "That is not the kind of book I want to be reading on a Saturday afternoon."

Margo smiled and pointed into a corner. "The light reading is over there, everything from Christie to Wodehouse."

* * *

"It is not unlikely, sir," Cordelia read ten minutes later, smiling in anticipation. "Keep her quiet for a bit, what? Make her stop snootering—" 

A bell rang; its cheerful chimes echoing in the parlour.

Cordelia looked up warily. That sound had come from the inside door, the same door she'd come through.

Margo stood. "My colleagues are coming."

"Watchers?" Cordelia asked.

"My other colleagues."

Xander dropped his book. "Aren't they—"

"You can not stay," Margo said. "They must not see you, or our agreement will be undone."

"But you promised, dame," Xander protested. "You said—"

"I will not break my promise," Margo confirmed, "but against the machinations of my colleagues it would be of no avail."

"Where can we go, dame?" Cordelia asked, putting her book down. "You t—"

"Into Eyam," Margo said. "Any closer, and they will sense you."

"It's night, dame," Cordelia said, and Eyam was small. There'd be nothing to do down there, other than hang around on street corners, in the dark.

"You can go in the pub," Margo said. "Hurry."

"But—" Xander began.

"You're not underage, in this country," Margo said. "You'll be allowed in."

"But we are foreign, dame," Cordelia said, standing up. Going in the pub would be better than staying out in the dark, and far better than getting grilled by Margo's colleagues, but Margo should have anticipated this potential problem, and planned for it.

"Eyam is popular with tourists," Margo said, urging them towards the door.

"This little place, dame?" Cordelia said sceptically. "Why'd—"

"Plague," Margo said. "Most of the village died."

Xander looked disbelievingly at her.

"Not recently," Margo said. "But it does attract the tourists. No one will notice you."

"We'll need money, dame," Cordelia said.

"Fifty pounds should be enough," Margo said, pulling the money out of nowhere, "each. Buy yourselves some lunch, and keep the change. I'll send you word when it's safe to come back."

"Can't you just zap us home, dame?" Xander asked, looking outside.

"Not without an anchor," Margo said, opening the door. "A thousand miles is my limit, so, unless you want dropping in the Atlantic?"

Xander quickly shook his head.

"Which way, dame?" Cordelia asked, peering into the dark. She could see a path vanishing into some trees, but no sign of a road nearby.

The bell rang, again.

Margo pointed left. "Go that way, out of the gate, then downhill. The path comes out by the cemetery. Turn left, and follow the road for three hundred yards. The Red Lion is just up the road on the right. If you see the ghosts, ignore them. They're harmless, this time of year."

Cordelia looked at the path, barely visible in the gloom, then back at Margo. "Couldn't you use your aides as an anchor?"

"Not without prearrangement," Margo said. "Now, I suggest you go."

She closed the door behind them, leaving them in the dark.

Xander looked at Cordelia. "You've been to England before."

"Once," Cordelia said. "To London. It didn't look like this."

"More buildings?" Xander suggested.

"Fewer trees," Cordelia agreed.

The bell rang, this time for longer..

Cordelia and Xander looked at each other, then started walking, heading into the dark woods, five thousand miles from home.

* * *

Cordelia put her fork down, and pushed her plate away. 

"I ate a pig?" Xander said. "Was it cooked, and called bacon, or ... ?"

"Alive," Cordelia said, sitting back, "but not long."

"I ate a pig?" Xander repeated disbelievingly. "I mean, the whole trichinosis issue aside, yuck! Will Willow ... ?"

Cordelia shrugged. "If she does, she won't remember much. You didn't."

One of the bar staff, walking past the alcove with a tray of empty glasses, leaned in and scooped up Cordelia's plate.

"And there weren't any ... lasting effects?" Xander asked.

"No," Cordelia said, smiling. "Not that time."

Halloween had been different, leaving him with useful memories. Maybe she should get her costume from Ethan this time, though that would mean losing control of the situation, and she'd need to pick the costume carefully. Willow hadn't remembered how to walk through walls afterwards.

"That time?" Xander echoed. "I get possessed again? Do I have a 'for rent' sign up, or something?"

"Possession isn't that common," Cordelia said reassuringly. "You were just unlucky."

Xander frowned, then started counting on his fingers. "Willow, Buffy, and Harmony are all possessed. That's three. Amy and me have both been possessed. That's five. You're possessing yourself. That makes six, and they're just the ones I know about. I don't know if Giles has or—"

"He was," Cordelia said, "but he's the only other one."

"When?" Xander said.

"Years ago," Cordelia said with a dismissive shrug. "We don't have to do anything about that until Halloween, if that's still the same."

Xander looked questioningly at her, but she shook her head.

"So," Xander said, "all our friends are or were possessed, and—"

"You haven't been," Cordelia said. "That was super-hypnotism, and I'm different."

Xander sighed. "In the last month most of the people we know—"

"Bad luck," Cordelia said firmly. "It wasn't like that the other time."

Xander picked up the menu, flicking through the pages. "More changes."

"Will you be wanting dessert or the bill?" the waitress asked, the words clear despite her odd accent. It wasn't the normal English one, rather something much like the one Margo had faked the other night but weaker. They must be somewhere near Margo's birthplace.

Xander looked uncertainly at her.

The waitress sighed. "Do you want anything else to eat, or do you want to pay now?"

"Oh," Xander said, "eat."

Then he looked at Cordelia.

"No thanks," she said. The food was good here, considering it wasn't a proper restaurant, just a dozen tables down one side of the room, but she'd already eaten more than normal for lunch.

After stumbling down that so-called path, with an arctic wind chilling her to the bone, she'd needed an hot meal.

"What will you be having?" the waitress asked.

While Xander scanned down the menu, Cordelia glanced round the pub.

There were a lot of people in tonight; students with mud-stained boots, old men chatting at the bar, teenagers playing pool, a small crowd watching a soccer game on the pub TV, family groups chatting at the nearby tables, and drifting unheeded through them the spectral blurs of half-seen ghosts, but none of them sounded American.

No one had said anything though, or even looked twice, probably because they were too English to show emotion. Eyam might be famous in England, but it was hardly an international tourist spot.

"Bakewell tart," Xander said, "with cream."

"These aren't because of the hellmouth," Cordelia said, once the waitress had gone. It wasn't likely that anyone would be spying on them here, no one could have known they would be so far from Sunnydale, and there was too much background noise in the pub for eavesdropping, but it was still best to be cautious.

"Wh— Oh, the possessions?" Xander said. "You sure?"

"Amy and Giles were before I returned here," Cordelia said. "Buffy and Willow took your place and—"

"Why?" Xander said. "Bad luck, or the hellmouth?"

"It doesn't work that way," Cordelia said. "It amplifies bad magic, which draws in the night life."

Xander frowned. "I thought Giles said bad luck. Bad magic is bad luck."

"Maybe," Cordelia said uncertainly. "It didn't do that the first time."

Then Cordelia frowned thoughtfully. She hadn't noticed any extra bad luck, but she wouldn't have, not something as subtle as that, with all the other weirdness around. In fact, since she'd grown up on the hellmouth, she would have grown up thinking being slightly unlucky was normal, and might still be doing so.

Cordelia took another look round the pub, wondering what they all though normal luck was.

"It's getting stronger," Xander reminded her.

Cordelia nodded. That would explain why her luck had been worse since the wish. Well, a little extra care would counter that problem, which wouldn't last long anyway.

"We'll soon stop that," she told Xander. "We always do."

"We're good?" Xander said, smiling.

"The best," Cordelia affirmed.

* * *

Cordelia yelped as she slipped, sliding back down the steep muddy slope. 

Xander steadied her. "You OK, Cordy?"

She grabbed a branch. "You can move your hand now."

He whipped it away.

"This is not a path," Cordelia said firmly. "Paths are flat, and paved, and properly lit."

They did not go up two-in-one gradients; they were not bare earth; and they were not lit solely by the dim glimmer of distant lights through the trees.

This non-path had been difficult enough, going downhill, but it had been dry then.

It was raining now, heavily, and the temperature had dropped another ten degrees.

"It's an English path," Xander said, a smile in his voice. "They're old-fashioned here."

"Not this old-fashioned," Cordelia said. "Margo is a century out of date."

"When she was born, they didn't have cars," Xander said. "Would it help if you took your shoes off?"

"I'd get my feet muddy," Cordelia said, looking down at her heels. "Margo should have sent someone, with proper equipment."

Instead, she'd just sent them a message, magically whispering 'return' in their ears.

"Isn't mud good for the skin?" Xander said.

"What's wrong with—" Cordelia snapped, then stopped. This was not Xander's fault, directly. The whole wish was partly his fault, his and Willow's, but it wasn't them who'd put her on this mud bank. That was Margo's fault.

Behind her, Xander sighed.

"Not this kind of mud," Cordelia patiently explained. "The mud they use isn't full of grass and pebbles."

"You've got to do something," Xander said. "That's the fourth time you've slipped."

It was, and if she slipped left, where the land fell away more steeply even than the path, she'd be lucky if all she got were broken bones.

Leaning on a tree trunk, Cordelia slowly took her shoes off. Red, with high heels, they'd been ideal for house hunting, but the English countryside was too much for them. If she'd known she was going to walking in these conditions she'd have picked a sturdier pair, more like Xander's, if she hadn't found a way out of getting yanked to England in the first place.

"Not much further to go," Xander said, smiling less than convincingly.

No, it was just another hundred yards through these trees, across a field full of sheep, with no shelter from wind or rain, into another wood, through Margo's gate, three hundred yards alongside a stream, which would surely be flooded by now, up a spiral staircase by the waterfall, over the bridge, then up more steps though the woods before they reached Margo's house; not far at all really, less than a mile.

It might as well have been a hundred miles, as far as Cordelia was concerned.

She could do it, of course, she wasn't going to give up or beg for help, but she shouldn't have to. Margo should have provided help, unasked. She must have known neither of them were dressed for this.

Xander handed her a fallen branch, five feet of solid oak with no twigs or leaves. "Try leaning on this. It might help."

It couldn't make things any worse. Cordelia grabbed hold of the branch with her right hand, dangled her mud-stained shoes by their straps from her left, and gingerly set off, up the slope.

"Is it helping?" Xander asked, following behind.

"A bit," Cordelia said. "Margo should have given us walking sticks, and umbrellas."

"I thought you were worried about accepting help from her," Xander said.

Cordelia brushed aside the overhanging branches. "When it comes with obligations."

"Cordy, when you do that," Xander said, carefully enunciating every single word, "could you not let go until I've got hold of them. Being whipped in the face with wet twigs is not nice."

* * *

Forty long minutes later, they reached Margo's house. 

"You took your time," Margo said as they stepped inside, banishing the mud with an imperious wave of her hand. "Admiring the countryside?"

"Dame," Cordelia said firmly. "There was no path. You should—"

Margo smiled at Cordelia.

"When I came out this morning, dame," Cordelia said, swiftly changing tack, "I did not expect to be walking cross-country."

"So I can see," Margo said, glancing at Cordelia's shoes. "Fortunately, the path to Eyam is a gentle stroll, which should not have taken you an hour to traverse, unless you stopped to enjoy the scenery."

"It's nearly midnight, dame," Cordelia said.

"Gentle, dame?" Xander said, overlapping with her. "Have you been—"

"My aides regularly take that path to Eyam," Margo said. "They have reported no problems."

"Your aides—" Cordelia began.

"The latter half of that path," Margo said, "is the first segment of the Eyam to Abney footpath, which people have been walking for centuries."

"That," Cordelia said, "was before they invented proper roads, dame."

"Last year," Margo said, smiling, "over ten thousand people walked that route, several hundred of them after nightfall."

Odd, but they were English, though Cordelia couldn't say that. Insulting Margo's country to her face would be dangerous, even by hellmouth standards.

"There are no paths like that in Sunnydale, dame," Cordelia said instead. "We—"

"Does not your country have national parks?"

"My family preferred visiting the world's great cultural centre's, dame," Cordelia said. "New York, Paris, London."

The national parks had been too tacky for her mom's liking, full of people hawking cheap souvenirs. The major cities had much better shopping.

"Commendable taste," Margo said. "However, unless you have been completely indolent, all your life, that gentle stroll should not have stretched you unduly."

"I am not lazy, dame," Cordelia said. "I—"

"What did the board want, dame?" Xander interrupted, trying to sound curious.

Margo stepped sideways, revealing a blue bowl on the table behind her.

"—am not—" Cordelia said, then Xander interrupted her again, clearly trying to divert the conversation into safer channels, not without good reason. She'd made her feelings about that supposed path plain; arguing further wouldn't achieve anything.

"A goodbye present, dame?" he hazarded.

"It is called the Cup of Albion," Margo said. "It's normally kept in the Ragnarok vault."

Magical, then. At first glance, it didn't look much, just a translucent cobalt-blue bowl, eight inches across.

"Who's Albion?" Xander said. "One of your colleagues?"

"Albion, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "is a name latterly given to Ynys Prydain, a legendary land, over whose green and pleasant hills heroes uncounted have walked, a land where dragons still lie sleeping in forgotten caves, and the ancient magics are strong."

The bowl was skilfully carved, looking almost like flowing water, frozen in time, every sinuous ripple perfectly shaped, perfectly placed.

"Where is it?" Xander asked, somewhere behind her.

There were shapes embedded in the blue; whales, eels, and other creatures, less recognisable, but all carved with such superlative skill they looked almost more lifelike than the real thing.

"Not so very far away," Margo said, the hint of a smile in her voice. "You may go there one day."

The ripples moved.

Shocked, Cordelia leaned closer.

It wasn't carved to look like water; it was water, a piece of ocean, trapped in the shape of a bowl, and the creatures in its depths were real.

But whales didn't come that small. Were they really small, or—

"Don't touch," Margo said. "It is not entirely safe."

Distracted, Cordelia blinked then, realising how close she was, backed away. It certainly wasn't safe, not if it could draw her in like that.

"What is it, dame?" Xander asked softly, not looking away from the cup.

"It is Ocean," Margo said. "Not a ocean, but the Platonic ideal thereof. It embodies every ocean that ever was or will be, on this planet and every other, in this and every dimension."

"Bigger on the inside, dame?" Xander guessed.

"Indeed," Margo said. "Those are whales swimming in its depths; whales, sea serpents, kraken, and every other leviathan of the deep. All sea life is in there, down to the very plankton, but too small for your eyes to see."

"Powerful magic," Cordelia said. "What's it for, dame?"

"It is one of five great weapons, crafted by a forgotten race in a dimension lost to the encroaching dark long before the sun first shone upon our earth. Since then, they have passed through uncounted hands, both mortal and divine, before coming to rest in Albion. Many of their custodians have enhanced its magics with their own, adding powers now mostly forgotten, but its original purpose remains. It commands all that is liquid."

"You mean water, dame?" Cordelia clarified.

"Mostly water, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "but matter is not made up of four elements. That is a misconception that should have been buried with the ancient Greeks. There are four phases of matter; solid, liquid, gas, and plasma, and a weapon to command each of them."

"What about the fifth weapon, dame?" Xander asked.

"Energy," Margo said, "though, by extension, it has since been endowed with great power over the spiritual and magical worlds."

"What can the Cup do, dame?" Cordelia asked. More importantly, what was the minimum safe distance when it was used.

"Many things, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, passing her hand over the top of the Cup. "Those who drink from it—"

In the Cup a crown appeared, floating in mist.

"—can gain many things; power—"

The crown faded, the gleam of its gems dissolving into a field of stars.

"—wisdom—"

The stars faded, the Cup filling with verdant green.

"—life eternal. Would you drink of it?"

"No, dame," Cordelia quickly said, echoed by Xander. Nothing worth having could be that easy. There must be some catch.

"Then you are not without wisdom," Margo said.

"Can you kill demons with it, dame?" Xander asked.

"I could drown a single demon in its own blood," Margo said, "or raise the oceans in wrath, and drown the highest mountains beneath the waves. If need be, I could call upon the ocean that swirls beneath our feet, the liquid heart of the planet, and rip the world asunder, leaving it no more than a cloud of gravel drifting through the endless void."

No chancing of getting to a safe distance then, unless the board's doors could go interplanetary. Cordelia would just have to hope destroying the world would not be necessary this weekend.

"Why they given it you," Xander asked, staring nervously at Margo. "Has someone booked an apocalypse without telling us, dame?"

"My colleagues thinks I will have need of it, when Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch stretches forth his hand," Margo said. "I'm not entirely convinced it will be enough, but the board has never been wrong, yet."

* * *

"... cannot readily be harmed within these walls, save by your own hand," Margo said, explaining the defences she'd installed on Cordelia's apartment. 

"Why the exception?" Xander asked. "Dame?"

"We might need our own blood, if we have to do any magic," Cordelia said. She wasn't planning to do anything that weird, apart from whatever little spells might be necessary to get the real Harmony back in her own body, and the fake in some suitable substitute, but Margo had been meticulous about covering all the possibilities.

As long as Cordelia didn't anger any gods, these rooms were now the safest place in Sunnydale. No one, human or demon, could pass the front door without permission, and anyone they did invite in would be completely unable to use any magic or special powers.

"Now, if we look upstairs, ... " Margo said.

Cordelia smiled as she followed her up the stairs. She could talk to Angel here without worrying about Angelus. Within these walls, he wouldn't be able to vamp out, his strength would be purely human, and the invitation wouldn't need magic to revoke, just her say so.

"This first room can serve as your inner library," Margo said.

"We've already got one library downstairs, dame," Xander said. "What do we need another for?"

"You will occasionally have guests in those rooms, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "This library will be for the books they must not see, including the majority of those I will be supplying."

"That only leaves us with one bedroom, dame," Cordelia objected. They wouldn't often need two at once, most night when she needed to sleep here Xander wouldn't, and vice versa, but sleeping in the same bed as Xander once had would still feel odd.

"It is large enough to hold two beds, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, "and a simple screen will keep either of you from seeing anything untoward."

"You want me to share a bedroom with her?" Xander gasped. "But, dame —"

"You are both responsible adults," Margo said. "I am sure you are capable of doing that without succumbing to temptation."

"We can arrange things so we're not both in there together," Cordelia said, frowning at Xander. It was good that Xander wasn't too eager to share, but he didn't have to look repulsed by the notion either.

"We'll keep having to—" Xander said.

The sound of knocking filled the room, cutting him off.

"I have also incorporated several utility spells into these rooms," Margo said. "This is one of them, which makes any knock at your door audible throughout the flat. Say audivi."

"Why, dame?" Cordelia asked warily. That was Latin, so probably magical, and possibly dangerous.

"It means 'I have heard'," Margo said. "It will stop the knocking."

"We have to do magic, dame?" Cordelia said. "Is that safe, with the hellmouth?"

"The magic has already been done," Margo said. "Saying certain words triggers the spells I wove. You may think of it as a voice-activated remote control."

Xander smiled. "Audivi."

The knocking stopped.

"Wouldn't electronics have been simpler, dame?" Cordelia said, unimpressed. If this magic went wrong, fixing it would not be easy.

"Inviting anyone in creates a weakness through which the uninvited can squeeze," Margo said. "Thus, I have made it impossible for any other than yourselves to enter these upstairs rooms, under any circumstances, which provides you with an inviolable inner sanctum. Hiring an electrician would have compromised that. Now, say monstra, 'show me', and we shall see who is knocking. The image will appear on the nearest flat surface."

"Monstra," Xander said, and on the wall an image appeared; Wilfred, carrying a sheaf of papers.

"To speak to him," Margo said, "say audi, 'listen', or nobis audi, 'listen to us'. I will be leaving you a full list of the commands."

"Audi," Cordelia said carefully. "Does it only work for us, dame? It's—"

Wilfred twitched. "Mistress Cordelia? Is that you?"

"Only you, the owners, may command here," Margo confirmed, which would be why the magic hadn't been triggering on her voice. "Currently, Wilfred can hear only you."

"Is Dame Margo there yet?" Wilfred said. "I have the report on Norman Delapare's employer's here, for her."

"Would you invite him in?" Margo said. "I can't."

"What's the Latin, dame?" Xander asked.

"That would be ineas," Margo said, "but invitations fall under a different spell, so they can, and should, be issued in English."

"You can come in," Cordelia said, "today."

Margo nodded approvingly. "You should try and avoid offering permanent invitations."

As Wilfred stepped inside, his image faded away.

"Shall we go downstairs?" Margo said, moving towards the door. "It will be interesting to see what kind of people they are, that they have use for the de la Poers."

* * *

Giles looked questioningly at Cordelia, into the stacks, then back at Cordelia. 

Cordelia glanced at Xander, who shrugged, then nodded.

"What do you want me to do?" Buffy asked Margo. "Will there be something to fight?"

"Very probably," Margo said. "If they are human, you will need to restrain them."

"What about me, dame?" Willow said, a glint in her eyes.

Giles slipped into the stacks, quickly followed by Xander.

"You may watch from concealment," Margo said. "You will not be able to contribute anything, but ..."

Cordelia quickly looked round, checking she wasn't being watched.

The Bodsworths were outside, setting up privacy wards in the car park for later, Buffy and Willow were too busy talking to notice anything, and Margo had her back to Cordelia.

Satisfied it was safe, Cordelia slipped into the stacks.

"— plausible deniability is all we need," Giles was saying to Xander as she approached them. "Dame Margo knows we are doing this, unofficially."

"Doing what?" Cordelia said.

"Dame Margo left this book out for me to find," Giles said, holding it up.

"De migratione animarum," Cordelia read, then risked a guess at the translation. "Animal migrations? Is this to do with the zoo?"

It had to be, given the context, and the words were close enough.

"It is," Giles said. "Your translation was almost right. This is 'On the migration of souls', a survey of the topic by—"

"Can you help Buffy and Willow now?" Xander asked.

"I may be able to do something tomorrow," Giles said, "when Dame Margo seals the death gate. I will need to research further, but I should be able to trap the hyena spirits within the soulstorm."

Not the way he'd originally done it, and hard on the spirits, who weren't really evil. Why had Giles chosen that method?

"Hyenas?" Xander said, in a creditable imitation of surprise.

"Hyenas," Giles said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I was able to use one of the rituals in here to identify the possessing spirits."

"What if this spell doesn't work tomorrow?" Cordelia asked, looking intently at Giles.

"Ah, well, if it doesn't, there are several alternatives in here," Giles said. "We should be able to get one of them to work before too long."

"Or what?" Xander said, looking sceptically at Giles. "Are there side effects?"

"Any magical changes induced by the possession will vanish with it," Giles said, "but second order effects may linger."

"You mean yes," Xander said, flashing an accusing glance at Cordelia. "What side effects?"

"Female hyenas all have high testosterone levels, and a pseudomasculine appearance," Giles said. "While they are possessed, Buffy and Willow's testosterone level will rise to a comparable extent, with effects much as if they were taking steroids. Since these are purely natural hormones, their effects will not be reversed when the possession ends."

"Sorry," Cordelia mouthed at Xander, not that she'd have done anything differently if she'd known this, she'd been trying to stop anybody getting possessed anyway, but it did sound like the potential effects were worse for girls than for boys and she might have been able to do more if she hadn't gotten herself kidnapped by Harmony.

"Bulgarian shotputters," Xander muttered, scowling at Giles. "You've got to do something."

"If we can end the possession quickly," Giles said, "the effects will be negligible. It is only if we take too long that we need worry."

Cordelia frowned, trying to remember what had happened to Rhonda afterwards.

"How long is too long?" Xander asked.

"The book is not entirely clear," Giles said, "but tomorrow should be soon enough."

Rhonda had been possessed for a few days, with no blatant changes, though she had left Sunnydale soon afterwards, so Giles was probably right. If his spell worked tomorrow, Buffy and Willow wouldn't suffer any serious permanent effects from her misjudgement.

If it didn't, she might need to buy Willow a razor for her next birthday.

"Are you sure?" Xander said, still looking at Giles.

"As sure as I can be," Giles said, "but I will need your co-operation tomorrow."

"Of course," Cordelia said, a moment after Xander.

"And," Giles said, "Buffy and Willow are not the only victims. There are another four affected."

"Can't you put the spirits back in their own bodies?" Cordelia said. "Wouldn't that be easier than meddling with the deathgate, and safer?"

"That was my first plan," Giles said, "but this book makes it clear that it would be unfeasible. Human bodies are better than hyena bodies, so the spirits do not resist the transfer. Going in the opposite direction, they would resist. Unless my performance was perfect they would escape into the nearest person who was feeling violent, and my performance would not be perfect."

"Who are the others?" Cordelia said, to get their names out.

"I can't tell," Giles said, leaving Xander still in the dark, officially, "but you should find them with Buffy and Willow tomorrow."

"OK," Cordelia said. "What will we have to do?"

* * *

"Think that's them?" Xander said, looking at the approaching car. 

"It's not a teacher," Cordelia said. "None of them could afford it."

Hopefully, the lawyers wouldn't notice anything odd. Cordelia hadn't read Wilfred's full report, but she'd heard enough from it to know that they were dangerous. They didn't just sue people; they slew them.

Cordelia and Xander were well hidden, in one of the parked cars, and Willow in another opposite, thanks to a coin toss, but Buffy, Giles, Margo, and the Bodsworths were all completely exposed, standing out in the open, waiting for their visitor, and Margo's magic might not help much if the lawyers decided to hose all the cars down with a machine gun.

It might help, her magic was the most powerful Cordelia had seen, but she would be much happier if she never had to find out.

The car stopped.

Buffy tensed, ready for action.

A young man got out, in his late twenties and smartly dressed.

"Mr Rupert Giles?" he said, his words unmuffled by the glass, thanks to Margo. She'd done something to make it one-way, part of her preparations.

Giles nodded.

"I am Mr Nigel Malia," he said, handing Giles his business card, then glanced at the other watchers. "Are these your associates?"

"We are," Wilfred said.

"Here for a short visit," Agatha added, smiling disarmingly.

Behind them, Margo stayed silent. With the privacy ward up she hadn't needed a disguise, but she had been adamant she would not lower herself to talk to a probable wrongdoer, except to pass judgement, an understandable sentiment. Cordelia wouldn't have wanted to talk to someone as slimy as these lawyers either.

"You are Norman Delapare's attorney?" Giles said.

And a distant relative. That was not a common surname.

"He is my client," Nigel said. "On his behalf, we have obtained an injunction against you."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Giles said smiling, "but shouldn't I have been informed, the right to a fair trial and all that?"

Nigel smiled back. "The judge saw no need for that, after we presented our evidence, since you are in the country under false pretences. I believe the immigration service is looking for you now, which makes this injunction almost redundant."

"Those orders have been countermanded," Wilfred said, "and the officials involved placed under investigation. It seems evidence has emerged they were in receipt of bribes."

"I am confident they will be found innocent," Nigel said. "Our Washington branch has some very well connected lobbyists."

"As of five minutes ago, your Washington branch is being audited by the IRS," Agatha said, "and when you hand us that spurious injunction, the judge's name will be added to the list."

"Our London branch—" Nigel began.

"—is about to be raided by Scotland Yard." Wilfred said. "It seems they had connections with BCCI."

Nigel twitched. "You can not win this battle. We own the courts."

"That will be news to the governments of the world," Giles said. "I do not think they will be pleased."

"Subtitles?" Xander said, from the front seat.

"They're arguing over who has more influence," Cordelia explained. "Giles is winning."

"We own governments," Nigel said. "Challenge us, and you will fail."

"The Black Hand said the same thing, a hundred years ago," Wilfred said. "We are still here."

"The Crimson Brotherhood said the same thing, two centuries past," Agatha said. "They are no more."

"Many have made that claim," Giles said. "None have ever made good on it."

"We know where your headquarters are," Nigel said. "It would be a shame if some of our less salubrious clients found out, all those books, up in smoke."

"You wouldn't," Agatha said, looking convincingly horrorstruck.

It was an act, of course, well, mostly. Agatha might not like the idea of books burning but she knew the secret, that the council was just a front for the board. Destroy it, and the board would adopt another, after taking vengeance on the destroyers.

Nigel didn't know that, and neither did his bosses. They had no clue about what furies they might be facing, no inkling the board even existed, so they were doomed, and rightly so. They had supported the Delapoors.

Still, Margo should have used a subtler approach. There was too much risk of bystanders, like Cordelia, getting caught in the crossfire, and she'd put Giles in the front line. He had enough problems without being targeted by evil lawyers.

"Certain of our clients might," Nigel said, a genuine smile back on his lips, "if we are distracted by your unwarranted attacks on our good name."

"Naked threats?" Giles said, "Surely a breach of professional standards."

"Mere speculation on hypotheticals," Nigel said. "You will find no court that would rule otherwise."

Giles yawned, ostentatiously. "Are you going to spend all evening boasting of your illegal influence, or are you going to hand me that entirely spurious injunction? I'm sure you won't be bothered by the departure from standard legal procedure."

Grinning, Nigel handed over the injunction.

"Whereas," Giles read, "Rupert Giles is guilty of, oh, assorted adolescent indiscretions, for none of which I was ever charged—"

"Can't tell you yet," Cordelia said, to Xander's questioning look. He wouldn't need to know about the Ripper period until Ethan came to town.

"Our files are quite extensive," Nigel said smugly.

Considerably more so than the council's files on him, but Giles didn't seem bothered by that disadvantage. The watchers must be good enough at bureaucratic infighting that the handicap didn't matter.

"—and has entered this country without disclosing those offences, we find that he must be deported forthwith, in accordance with a superficially impressive string of citations."

"Which you will be," Nigel said.

Giles looked reprovingly at Nigel, as though he were a fingerprint on a library book, then back down at the injunction. "Furthermore, in the matter of Mr Norman Delapare, we find that the aforementioned Rupert Giles has attempted to interfere with Mr Norman Delapare's constitutionally protected right to freedom of religion. We therefore rule, in accordance with a rather dubious list of precedents, that the aforementioned, and all his associates, are hereby barred in perpetuity from coming within one hundred miles of the plaintiff or repeating any of their claims concerning him, on pain of a ten thousand dollar fine per breach of this order."

"That can't be right," Xander said. "The law isn't—"

"That's the point," Cordelia said. "Any appeal judge would overrule that travesty, unless they were bribed, or blackmailed. Nigel's saying they don't care about that, because they control the courts."

"Religious freedom," Giles said, "does not extend to rape, murder, tor—"

"That will be another ten thousand dollars," Nigel said, showing no surprise at the list of crimes. "Would you like to pay my client now, or shall we send the bailiffs round?"

"Neither," Giles said, ripping the injunction up. "You will withdraw your support for the de la Poers, and make amends, or you will face our justice."

"My client has never been, and never will be, charged with any crime," Nigel said. "You are now guilty of contempt of court. Perhaps a few years in prison will teach you proper respect."

Buffy started forwards, snarling, but Giles put his hand on her shoulder, murmuring calming words.

Stepping backwards, Nigel patted his pocket.

"We serve a higher law," Wilfred said. "You do know what the de la Poers do, don't you?"

"I don't care what they do," Nigel said. "My client—"

"You see nothing immoral in it?" Agatha said.

"Morality?" Nigel said. "Purely relative. One man's virtue is another's vice. There is no absolute standard of morality, no such thing as good or evil. All that matters is the pursuit of happiness, and the entirely legal exercise of power makes me very happy."

Nigel shrugged. "If other people get hurt along the way, so be it. They are clearly weaklings, undeserving of life."

"Why doesn't he just put a black hat on?" Xander said disbelievingly.

"He doesn't care what we think," Cordelia said. "He thinks he's got Giles beaten, and he won't get many chances to gloat."

At work, he probably spent most of his time crawling to his bosses. Outside work, he had to pretend to be normal. It was only at times like now he got a chance to say what he really thought, a chance he was clearly relishing.

"—out of date, old man," Nigel was saying. "Morality is dead."

"Enough," Margo thundered, a yard of steel in her voice, and Nigel grew pale. "By your own words you stand condemned. Do you have anything to say in mitigation before I pass sentence?"

Nigel slapped himself on the chest, over the heart, and his car's doors opened.

"You can't judge me," he said, his voice shaky as he backed away from Margo's glare, "or my client. You are vigilantes, with no legal standing. I am the law."

Two demons got out of Nigel's car; large demons, with orange skin, and horns on their noses.

"Attack me again," Nigel said, "and we will be forced to take extreme measures in self defence, and stop looking at me like that."

Giles took his hand off Buffy's shoulder.

"No weak spots," he said as she charged the demons. "You'll have to decapitate."

Buffy tripped one of the demons, pulled out a knife, then lunged at the other.

Smiling, Margo pulled out an audio tape.

The demon dodged Buffy, but she spun on one heal and drove her elbow into its gut.

"Norman Delapare, perimaris!" Margo said, and the tape crumbled into dust.

The tripped demon rolled away from Buffy and struggled to its feet.

"Your client is now dead," Margo said. "Do you wish to reconsider your position?"

Buffy slammed the other demon down, then jumped on its back.

As she began sawing at its neck the tripped demon looked at her, then backed away.

"You are bluffing," Nigel said. "No magic can p-p—"

"You know that's not true," Margo said. "Do you wish to reconsider your position?"

The standing demon charged at the watchers.

Margo held up her hand, and the demon reeled back, its clothes aflame.

"No," Nigel said. "You will not impress me with cheap tricks."

"I quit," the demon snarled at Nigel as it beat out the flames in its clothes. "I'm not being paid enough for this."

Nigel looked at Buffy, grinning as she sliced though the other demons neck, then into the shadows. "I'll give you a ten percent bonus."

"Not good if I don't live to spend it," the demon said, backing away. "I'm going."

"Nigel Malia," Margo said, "I find you a willing minion of the enemies of mankind."

As Buffy finished severing the downed demon's head, its skin began to shimmer and coarsen, becoming rock.

"I don't care what you think," Nigel said, edging back towards his car. "Your council is history."

Buffy looked down at the two boulders, all that was left of the demon she'd killed, then picked up its head and hurled it at the other demon.

"You can't run from true justice," Margo said. "Stand, and hear your sentence."

Nigel stopped dead, staring fearfully at her.

The other demon stumbled when the head hit it, looked over its shoulder, then began to run.

Laughing, Buffy chased after it.

"You have perverted the law in pursuit of evil ends," Margo said. "Thus I lay this doom upon you; you shall obey all the laws of the land, without equivocation."

"That all," Xander said, clearly disappointed. "He—"

"—won't be able to do anything now," Cordelia said as Nigel looked wildly around. "Do you know how many laws there are?"

"No," Xander said, "but—"

"Millions," Cordelia said. "You can't do anything without breaking half a dozen."

That was what her dad always said, when he'd been drinking. No matter what he did, they could find some obscure law against it, so he had no choice but to break the law, and give the politicians a chance to blackmail a hardworking business man.

That was an exaggeration, of course. No cared about the old laws mouldering on the statute books. It might still be illegal to drink alcohol before sunset within Sunnydale city limits, but any attempt to enforce laws like that would be laughed out of court. Her dad was just annoyed by all the petty regulations; he wouldn't break any important laws.

Nigel didn't have any choice though. He had to obey all the laws, even the ones no one had thought about in a century. Judging by the panic growing on his face, he was having trouble thinking of anything he could do.

"Think of all the old laws," Cordelia said, seeing that Xander still looked confused. "The ones everyone ignores. He can't. He ..."

As Xander listened to her explanation, he began to smile.

"You just going to stand there?" Agatha said, smiling broadly.

Nigel scowled. "I can't use my car, it's the proceeds of criminal activity, and I shouldn't be wearing these clothes either, for the same reason, but I can't strip in public."

"Catch twenty-two," Giles said. "You are also trespassing. My colleague did not have authority to invite you onto school property."

"I'll go," Nigel said, his face pained. "I'll be breaking fewer laws then, but this isn't over. The senior partners will destroy your council."

Cordelia watched him hurry away, then got out of the car and stretched. "Nice curse, dame. Can we go now?"

She'd been yanked around by Margo nearly all day so far, and in a few hours she'd have to deal with the fake Harmony again. She needed some time to herself in between, to recover.

Really, she should already have been home, well, Buffy's, by now, Margo hadn't needed her for this, but she'd insisted they all watch, claiming it would be educational, and Xander had liked the idea. He'd probably expected fireworks.

Willow got out of the car opposite, looked at Xander, just getting out, then hurried over to where Buffy was toying with the demon.

"Not just yet," Margo said. "Mr Giles, his business card?"

Giles handed it to her.

"Wolfram and Hart," Margo read, tossing the card up. "They are corrupt beyond redemption. They must be destroyed."

The card stopped at the top of its arc, frozen in mid-air.

"Audi," Margo said, and the card rippled.

"You don't need to take direct action, Dame Margo," Giles said quickly. "The council can deal with this, and it may restore some unity."

On the card an image slowly formed; a building, silhouetted against the sky.

"I'm not doing this because I need to, Mr Giles," Margo said. "I'm doing it because it needs doing. There will be work enough for the council, picking up the pieces."

Rainbow light flickered round the edge of the card, and it began to grow.

"They may be able to tell you're more than just a watcher, Dame Margo," Giles said. "You're imperilling the security of the board."

The card was a window in the air now, limned with flame, and through it Cordelia could see a skyscraper.

"How thoughtful of you, Mr Giles," Margo said. "But my sealing of the deathgate would by itself be enough to show there were powers at work greater than the council is known to wield. The measures the board is taking to obscure that will also obscure this."

There were lights coming on in the skyscraper now, and beyond it Cordelia could see the distant glint of sunlight on water. It must be Wolfram and Hart's office, in LA.

"Very well, Dame Margo," Giles said. "If you are entirely sure this is wise. Unnecessary escalation of conflicts as long been against our policy, to miminise the risk of innocent casualties."

"I am well aware of that, Mr Giles," Margo said. "I do know what I'm doing. This should not be unduly dangerous."

Cordelia backed away.

"Wolfram and Hart," Margo said, "Hear me, and learn your doom. Enemies of mankind I name you, defilers of the halls of justice and servants of the most vile, yet I am merciful. Any who truly repent of their crimes and seek to make amends, I shall let walk free. Upon all others, I lay these dooms; to have the rottenness of your souls made visible in your faces, to have—"

Beyond the window, something roared defiance, a tiger at bay. There were teeth in that roar, teeth and the promise of death.

Cordelia quickly looked round for Buffy, but she was gone, and Willow with her.

"That wasn't a demon," Margo said, "Maybe a godling."

Shadows gathered round the window, blotting out the flames, and the scene within shifted, becoming a ruined tower.

It had been tall once, and majestic, marble and ivory, beautifully carved, but now it was a jagged stump, smoke-blackened. Rank weeds grew in the gardens where once roses had bloomed. Boulders littered the ground, shards of the fallen tower, obscene doodles scrawled over their smashed carvings, and through the rubble three great beasts prowled; a wolf, a ram, and a hart.

"Dolor non sint eorum," Margo said. "Idem sint mea."

The three beasts looked down at Margo, their eyes the rusty brown of dried blood.

"Who are you," they said, three voices blending into one, "that you dare assail our servants thus?"

"I am a servant of mankind," Margo said, "a student of hidden arts, a shield against the dark. Who are you, to claim dominion over men?"

"We are the canker on the rose," they said, "the worm in the apple, the slow rot in the hearts of men. From within we shall tear down all they have built, and rule over the ruins until the stars grow cold. Withdraw your curse, and kneel before us. You could rise high in our service."

Cordelia grabbed Xander and pulled him further away.

"Cordy," he said, looking indignant.

"We can't do anything," Cordelia said, cutting him off. "That's too big for us to fight."

"I will not withdraw my curse," Margo said. "Nor will I serve you. I will defy you always, though it cost me my life."

"Fire," the three beasts said, and the car park erupted in flames.

They swirled around Cordelia, dancing over her skin, yet there was neither heat nor pain.

Above the flames the window floated, and the beasts beyond it laughed.

"Giles," Cordelia gasped, trying to spot him through the fire's glare. He might not be able to do anything, he'd be nearly as out of his depth as she was, but he would be able to explain it, better than not knowing. "Explain."

"... whilesoever I have breath," Margo said. "Cum omnibus meis viribus ..."

The flames died down, leaving the cars smouldering wrecks.

Xander looked undamaged, Giles and the Bodsworths too, but Margo had several mild burns. She must have taken the brunt of the blast.

"Mihi medeor," Margo said and the burns faded away.

"You have some small talent," the three beasts said. "Lightning."

Lightning struck Margo, blast after blast running, but as fast as they seared her skin, she healed it.

"Dame Margo is protecting us all," Wilfred said, shouting over the thunder. "All the hurts we should suffer will fall on her."

"Dame Margo has overreached herself," Giles said. "That trio subverted her portal. They must be considerably stronger than her, and —"

"That will be sapping a large portion of their strength," Wilfred said. "They can't keep this up for long."

"Pain," the three beasts said, and Margo stumbled, falling to one knee.

"You are making a rather large assumption about their total strength," Giles said. "We have to do something."

"Where's Buffy," Agatha said, looking accusingly at Giles. "She should be here."

"I think she saw another demon," Cordelia said, a guess, but plausible enough. More likely, the excitement of the fight had made Buffy think hyena, which meant they were probably safer with her and Willow gone.

"Close," Margo said, her voice strained, "claude," then other words, in other languages.

"She's trying to close the portal," Giles said.

"Incende," the beasts said, and the flames returned. "You can't last much longer."

Margo gasped in pain, then started chanting bad poetry.

"What can we do?" Xander said.

"In theory," Giles said, "if we could distract the trio, Dame Margo would be able to regain control of the portal, and close it."

"We need to get something through the portal then," Agatha said. "A bomb, perhaps."

"Know where to find one?" Giles said. "Even in America, they're not kept in schools. Could—"

"Any wine bottles in the staff room?" Wilfred said. "We should be able to improvise something."

"Mihi medeor," Margo said, her voice strained. "Mihi medeor."

Xander nudged Cordelia. "You got yours?"

"My what?" Cordelia said, struggling to see through the flames.

"Pistol," Xander whispered.

"No," Cordelia said. Carrying that around wouldn't have been safe, not when Wilfred had said it could easily explode—

Xander hurled his pistol at the portal.

—but an explosion was just what they needed, now. Simply firing it might not work, even with—

Light, blue-white, brighter than—

Thunder roar.

Cordelia blinked, and tried to work out what had happened.

She was laid on her back, unhurt—

Cordelia quickly sat up.

—at the edge of forty foot crater, centred underneath where the portal had been. It was gone now, and the flames with.

Cordelia stood up, brushing the debris off her.

Margo was at the bottom of the crater, her body twisted and smouldering, but she should be able to heal herself.

Xander, Giles, and the Bodsworths were all looking down at her, clearly themselves unharmed.

Around them, debris littered the ground, great chunks of stone blasted out of the crater.

'A relatively small explosion,' Wilfred had said, relatively small. This was not small, not by any reasonable standard.

Cordelia would obviously have to explain a few things to him, starting with the meaning of safety, and of small, later.

The Bodsworths were picking their way through the crater now, struggling towards Margo, but Giles was looking at Xander.

"What was that?" he asked. "How?"

"Old hand grenade," Xander lied. "My uncle brought it back from Vietnam. I thought it might be useful."

"They don't make hand grenades that powerful," Giles said thoughtfully. "It must have been some side-effect of the portal's disruption, or maybe a parting blow from the trio. Next time, warn me first."

While Giles started to make his way down into the crater, Xander looked at Cordelia and smiled. "No school, Monday."

Cordelia nodded. Not with all the windows shattered, it'd be a few days before they could repair this much damage.

"I'll live," Margo croaked, clutching at her broach. "Domu me fer."

Rainbow light flickered over her skin, and she vanished.

In the distance, sirens sounded, coming closer.

"A side-effect, I think," Wilfred said, heading back out of the crater. "I seem to recall reading about something similiar happening in Canada, in 1915."

"And there was that event on Bali, in 1742," Giles said, nodding.

"Talk later," Cordelia said. "We have to go before the they get here."

Spending the evening with Harmony might be awkward, but it would be better than spending it being interrogated by the police.


	18. Cordelia's Ghost: Home, sweet home

Cordelia knocked on her dad's office door, mentally rehearsing her story.

"Come in," he said quietly.

"Dad—", she began, as she stepped inside, then stopped.

He had the TV on again, tuned to CNN.

On screen, skyscrapers burned.

"... terrorist atrocity ..." the newsreader said. " ... Wolfram and Hart ..."

"What happened?" Cordelia demanded, hoping her fears were false.

"A bomb," her dad said, his face pale with anger. "Terrorists in LA."

"One bomb?" Cordelia said. There were three —no, four— plumes of smoke rising over the city.

"One," her dad said. "They'll be repeating the tape again in a moment."

"... At five past five," the newsreader said. "A news helicopter ..."

On screen the tape played, a police car racing through the evening rush hour.

Out of shot, something flashed, sun-bright.

The camera slewed left, and upwards, to the Wolfram and Hart tower.

The top five floors of the building were glowing, green shading to blue.

"... first device appears to have been an incendiary," the newsreader said, though it looked nothing like a fire, too monchrome.

It looked like high powered magic, the kind Margo had been throwing around, and the timing was right. Nigel had arrived at five, confronting him and his employers had taken a few minutes, and then Xander had thrown the pistol.

The blue thinned as it brightened, furiously buring wreckage now dimly visible within the translucent shell.

There must have been at least as big an explosion on the other side of the portal, maybe bigger, since the pistol had exploded on the far side, though—

A half-second glimpse of new fires burning, on the sixth floor down, then the light stretched to cover it, blue shading to violet.

It had to be part of Wolfram and Hart's magical defences, struggling to contain the explosion, but this explosion was too big to be easily muffled.

The sorcerous light vanished, leaving a cube of pale-blue flame hovering atop the building,

It exploded.

In the buildings all around, glass fell from shattered windows as the offices within ignited, whipped into flame by that radiant blast of furnace heat.

At the centre of the explosion, Wolfram and Hart blazed, its top half vaporised by that blast, thick black smoke gushing up from the stump.

The explosion had definitely been more powerful on the far side, too powerful. Demolishing Wolfram and Hart was good, in principle, but not at the price of this much collateral damage.

Cordelia scowled. The explosion might not have been because of the pistol alone, according to Giles portals often exploded when they were destroyed, but she was pretty sure the pistol was responsible for most of the damage. Margo was so eager to kill demons, she kept forgetting about safety.

"... fifty confirmed casualties in the neighbouring buildings," the newsreader said, "but no reports from Wolfram and Hart, as yet."

Not as bad as it could have been then. Half an hour earlier, when the offices were still full, it would have been carnage, but that wouldn't be any comfort to the grieving relatives.

Even destroying Wolfram and Hart completely wouldn't be worth this, and they hadn't come close. There were dozens more branches, scattered world wide, and behind them the Wolf, Ram, and Hart still stood.

They wouldn't have been hurt by this explosion, not even scratched. Giles had been very clear on that, and this disaster confirmed it.

Just as Giles had said, the rest of the explosion had hit LA, not the trio's domain, even though that was where the portal had led when Xander had thrown the pistol. The trio had inserted themselves between the two sides of Margo's window, so they could attack her, then, when they saw the explosion coming, stepped out of the way, letting it go out the far side, callously sentencing their minions to a fiery death.

Well, the death of a few evil lawyers didn't matter, much. The deaths of bystanders did.

Margo needed reining in.

She had been trampling over everyone since she arrived in Sunnydale, using the implicit threat of Giles's murder by her followers to impose her authority, then dragging Cordelia into danger.

It was Margo's fault that Cordelia had nearly been eaten by Rhunsp, ghouled by Ngralth, and incinerated by Wolfram and Hart. Without her, Cordelia would have been safely at home all three times.

Being forced to call her dame all the time rankled too.

Admittedly, Cordelia's home wasn't all that safe, with the monster in the basement, and Margo had done some useful things, such as providing the apartment, and arranging for self-defence training, but she could have done all that without being so abrasive, and without endangering anyone else's life. Margo could have acted more like Cordelia herself, and charmed everyone into compliance.

Besides, confronting Margo head-on would be like walking naked into a vampire nest, so foolish even Xander wouldn't do it given even half a second to think, and she'd be dead soon.

Perhaps a few pointed comments would be enough to prod Margo's conscience, remind her to avoid overkill, and not drag Cordelia into anything else apocalyptic. It wouldn't be much, but better than doing nothing, and safe.

At least Xander wouldn't know about this disaster. He didn't brood like Angel, flaunting his pain so everyone could see how nobly he suffering. If he found out about this, he'd only look sad for a few days, then revert to his normal good-humoured self, to all outwards appearances.

But appearances were deceptive. Inside, Xander would be tormenting himself over his role in the deaths for months, telling himself they were all his fault, which they weren't.

He couldn't have known what would happen when he threw the pistol, how big the explosion would be. He hadn't meant to kill anyone human, but he couldn't have known what—

—a principle with wider applications. That argument might get Harmony to see sense.

"... has claimed responsibility," the newsreader said, "but a connection with the middle east crisis ..."

"Pointless speculation," Cordelia's dad said, turning the sound off. "We want to know what's happened, not what some half-witted, overpaid, sm—"

Cordelia sighed, heavily.

"Were you after something?" her dad said, interrupting his rant to look at her.

"You both still going out tonight?"

"I am," her dad said. "Having friends over?"

"We're meeting up here."

"The girls?" her dad asked, without a trace of concern.

"Yes," Cordelia reassured him, unfooled by his act. "You'll be back by ten?"

"Nine," her dad said.

"Same problem?" Cordelia asked, glancing at her mom's photo. If he was prepared to leave at all, it couldn't be too bad this time.

Her dad nodded wearily. "I'll be leaving at seven."

Before Harmony and the rest arrived, then. Her mom would be staying in her rooms, with all the doors locked, so there was no risk of her hearing anything undesirable if Harmony got careless, and they should all be gone before her dad got back.

Cordelia smiled, backing out of the door before her dad—

"By the way," her dad said, "I noticed your bed wasn't slept in last night, or the night before."

Careful to show no reaction, Cordelia launched into her prepared story.

* * *

"Why are we meeting here anyway?" Aura asked.

"Harmony thought it was a good idea," Cordelia said.

"When did we last all meet up?" Harmony said. "It—"

"Tuesday," Cordelia said flatly.

"Seems like longer," Harmony said. "Wasn't that when you—"

"What was it you did that night?" Cordelia asked, frowning as if struggling to remember.

Harmony glanced at Aura. "It was the night before someone burned down the Bronze. We can't meet there, so—"

"I'm sure it makes sense to you," Cordelia said, smiling dismissively.

"The Adelphi was OK," Aura said, looking nervously between Cordelia and Harmony.

"The Bronze was better," Harmony said, "before someone burnt it down. Didn't—"

"You're not dressed for the Bronze," Cordelia said, looking pointedly at Harmony's floor-length dress. It wasn't her choice, of course, it was Margo's fault, but Aura didn't know that.

"We both know why," Harmony said, meeting Cordelia's stare head on.

"I might have something appropriate in my wardrobe," Cordelia said. "Aura won't mind if we take a look, will you?"

"No," Aura immediately said. "I don't mind."

Harmony looked briefly thoughtful, then smiled at Aura. "You can let the others in, when they arrive."

* * *

Cordelia closed the bedroom door, then glared at Harmony. "What—"

Harmony smiled. "You know I can't wear anything in your wardrobe. Your friend—"

"Margo is not my friend," Cordelia said flatly. "Don't blame me for her—"

"You could have—"

"I couldn't," Cordelia said. "I—"

"You could have tried," Harmony said. "You—"

"Would you?" Cordelia said quietly.

Harmony hesitated, answer enough.

"This isn't easy, for either of us," Cordelia said softly.

Harmony smiled. "I know that trick. You can't—"

"I'm older than you," Cordelia said, smiling back. "I don't want to fight you but—"

"Then give me my body back."

"Not going to happen," Cordelia said. "You have to accept that, or—"

"Would you?" Harmony said, smiling triumphantly.

The phone rang, saving Cordelia an awkward moment.

"One of your freak friends?" Harmony said as Cordelia snatched the phone up.

"Mistress Cordelia?" Wilfred said.

"Harmony is here," Cordelia warned him.

"I'm sure we can trust you not to say anything indiscreet," Wilfred said. "Dame Margo would like to see you at your earliest convenience."

"Why?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Wilfred said. "Shall I tell her tonight, say eight-thirty?"

"No," Cordelia said sharply. "She knows I'm busy tonight."

Blunt, but Wilfred needed reminding where he stood. He wasn't Margo; he couldn't command her. He would have to ask, politely, and give her good reasons to cooperate.

"Who knows?" Harmony said.

"Mistress Cordelia," Wilfred said, "surely you can not think ..."

While he was droning on Cordelia lowered the phone and whispered "Wilfred."

"Margo's lackey?" Harmony said, not bothering to whisper.

Cordelia nodded, putting the phone back to her ear.

"... a minor social event," Wilfred was saying.

"You don't know what's at stake here," Cordelia said. "Dame Margo does. She will understand."

"And yet, despite knowing that, she asked to see you urgently," Wilfred said. "Perhaps you should consider—"

"Did she actually say tonight?"

"Not as such," Wilfred conceded.

Cordelia smiled. "Do you think she'll be pleased to—"

"I'm confident I understand Dame Margo's desires better than you or—"

"I'll bet you do, Wilf," another voice said, male with a faint Scottish accent. "Is it true what they say about the ferrets?"

"Jacob," Wilf said sharply. "Now is not the time for your puerile jokes."

"If we could not laugh in the face of the enemy," Jacob said, "we would have lost that which makes us human."

"Where are you phoning from?" Cordelia asked suspiciously. It sounded like Jacob was another watcher, and not one of Wilfred's friends, so they were probably in some watcher building, but—

"The board's antechamber," Wilfred said, confirming Cordelia's guess. "I agree in principle, Jacob, but our laughter should be directed at our mutual enemies, not each other."

Cordelia sighed. There might be a few dozen watchers listening in, each with their own private agenda, each hostile to both Giles and Margo. It would take all her considerable skill to avoid a mistep.

"If we could not laugh at our bosses, they would be tyrants," Jacob said. "Doctor Scrope—"

"You may not have noticed," Wilfred said, "but I am on the phone."

"That what that plastic thing is?" Jacob said, chuckling at his own wit. "Who's the lassie, anyway? One of Rupert's brats?"

Cordelia bristled, but said nothing. Arguing with Jacob would be too risky.

"Mistress Cordelia is not a brat," Wilfred said. "Do you wish to dispute the board's acknowledgement of Dame Margo's recognition of those three as associates?"

"Associates," Jacob said, sounding disgusted. "I would never dispute the board's wisdom but those three are dancing bears. Doctor Scrope has said that, while he has no intention of challenging the collective wisdom of his colleagues, he personally would not have been half as indulgent."

Indulgent? That ruled Jacob's faction out, if Cordelia ever needed watcher allies.

"Nonetheless," Wilfred said, "the board found his objections unconvincing. Now, if could you leave me—"

"And deprive the lass of the chance to talk to a competent watcher?" Jacob said. "She may only be American, and barely out of nappies, but there is still some small chance—"

"Duck!" another voice shouted, female, and very English.

On the other end of the phone, something exploded.

Cordelia rubbed her ear, then looked suspiciously at the phone. "Wilfred, what's going on there? Why can I hear screaming? Wilfred? Wilfred?"

"Who's this?" the female voice said. "One of Rupert's little helpers?"

"My name is Cordelia Chase," she said flatly. "Who are you? What happened to Wilfred?"

"That's Mr Bodsworth to you, girl," the woman said. "Mr Ingram landed on top of him. I am Mrs Renwick, an aide to Doctor Bownes."

"If you're busy ..." Cordelia said tenatively. End the conversation now and she might never find out what was going on; let it continue, and she risked endless lectures, two unattractive choices.

"Sarah," Wilfred said, sounding slightly winded, "give me that phone back."

"No," Sarah said. "The girl deserves to hear the full truth about your Dame Margo's censure."

"Dame Margo will tell her what she needs to know when next they meet," Wilfred said.

"Why wait?" Sarah said. "Girl, the board was not best pleased by Dame Margo's failure to exercise proper judgement, and the consequent death of innocents. They actually told her they would not expel her, in the light of her future service."

"That all," Cordelia said, "or are you being English?"

"I believe the term you are so feebly groping for, girl," Sarah said, "is litotes. It is exceedingly—"

Over the phone, Cordelia heard something big growling, then the crack of breaking bones, a brief gurgle of blood, and the thump of a body hitting the floor.

"What was that?" Cordelia said quickly, then to Harmony's quizzical glance, "sounds like a fight."

"Sorry about that," Sarah said. "Had to kill a little demon."

"In the board's antechamber?" Cordelia said. "Shouldn't—"

"Normally, yes," Sarah said. "This little contretemps is entirely Dame Margo's fault. Had she not acted with undue haste we would not be under assault by the Morrigan's battle-host."

"Wolfram and Hart?" Cordelia said, naming the obvious suspects. "How many demons?"

"So, you are not a complete idiot," Sarah said. "We believe they are indeed responsible for this act of supreme folly. Just as Dame Margo grossly underestimated her enemy, so has the triune beast. No doubt they calculated the forces they were unleashing against Dame Margo would be sufficient to annihilate, even should her strength be ten-fold greater than what they had seen revealed, and in that they were correct, but for all their caution their calculations have foundered on one simple fact. Those of the dark divide the world into enemies and slaves; we do not."

"How many—" Cordelia began, interrupting before Sarah could go any further astray. Half what she was saying was obvious nonsense, and the rest so obviously true it didn't need saying. None of it was useful.

"Had Dame Margo stood alone," Sarah said, effortlessly overriding Cordelia, "she would have fallen, but she did not. A mere three hundred warriors of the dark court could never hope to overcome the combined arcane might of the board, not even with a full god behind them. When the Morrigan realises how badly her forces are outmatched, she will withdraw, and attempt to take vengeance for her losses on the triune beast."

"Then why are you talking to me?" Cordelia said the moment Sarah finally shut up, not bothering to hide her surprise. "Shouldn't you—"

"You need not flatter me, girl," Sarah said. "Were we aides to attempt to assist our patrons in battle we would prove more hinderance than help for they would have to divert a portion of their strength to protecting us from—"

"You're ignoring—"

"Not entirely," Sarah said, cutting Cordelia off. "We are disposing of those minor demons that come our way, not the warriors themselves, of course, they are beyond us, but their beasts of war. However, it would be remiss of us to let this little scrap detract us from our other duties."

"Mrs Renwick is correct, for once," Wilfred said, in the background. "While I appreciate your obvious concern for my safety—"

His sanity, more like. Coolness under fire was good, much better than panicking, but these watchers were taking it too far.

"—there is no great danger here," Wilfred want on. "It is scarcely any more dangerous than the streets of Glasgow at closing time. Right, Jacob?"

"I wouldn't know," Jacob said, his voice reeking of offended pride. "I am from Edinburgh."

"Edinburgh, Glasgow; what's the difference?" Sarah said lightly. "They're both—"

"Edinburgh," Jacob said, "is the Athens of the north, a refined city of high culture. Glasgow is most decidedly not. It is—"

"I don't want to keep you on the phone too long," Cordelia said, struggling to sound polite. She'd heard more than enough watcherly bickering in the last few days, and this spat wasn't even high quality. Giles and Margo were both much better at verbal jousting than Wilfred and his rivals. "Could you just tell me what you think I need to know?"

If she didn't, Cordelia would just have to find some passable excuse to hang up, and hope none of the watchers would bear a grudge.

"Are you aware of what has happened to Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles branch?" Sarah asked.

"It blew up," Cordelia said. "Mr Bodsworth didn't tell us the explosion would be that big.

"I didn't know," Wilfred protested. "I thought—"

"Dame Margo was overly vague in her description to him of the risks," Sarah said. "The culpability for the explosion, and the consequent civilian deaths is therefore—"

More growling, a scream of pain, sounds of a scuffle, then a quiet whimpering.

"Stop that, Reginald," Jacob said. "It is most unbecoming."

"Jacob," Reginald said, his voice thick with pain, "I've just had my foot bitten off by an Armagh demon hound. If you think I'm going to bear the agonising pain in complete silence I can only suggest—"

"It was a Fermanagh demon hound," Jacob said. "If you look at the toothmarks on your leg you can clearly see—"

"Mr Ingram," Sarah said, her voice cold as the grave. "Might I humbly suggest you consider the merits of silence. Helping Wilfred tie that tourniquet might not be entirely unappreciated either."

"And what will you be doing, Mrs Renwick?" Jacob said, moving further from the phone. "Gossiping with the lass?"

"Standing guard," Sarah said, "while I inform the girl of what she needs to know. Sorry about that, girl. Mr Ingram's faction has long been considered an embarrassment by all decent watchers."

Then they should have been expelled, but it sounded like they too had a patron on the board.

"Anyway," Sarah said, "Dame Margo has been deemed culpable for the civilian deaths. Furthermore, she has also been found guilty of the lesser charge of imperilling the board's safety. If she had not been so hasty, she would have realised that adequate though the precautions were against the expected they would not be adequate were Wolfram and Hart to prove to be the instrument of a greater evil, as has indeed proved to be the case."

Cordelia untangled the convoluted syntax, and frowned. She'd been thinking much the same herself, but if the board agreed with her, why such a light sentence? Margo's misjudgement had killed people, and put the board members in personal danger. They should have done more than just tell her off.

Of course, there wasn't much they could do to Margo when she was about to sacrifice herself for the world's sake, but still, Margo deserved more than just harsh words, especially after the way she'd treated Cordelia, Buffy, and the others.

And perhaps that was what she'd got. Sarah was English, and a watcher, capable of making ten years in prison sound like a slap on the wrist.

"Now," Sarah said, while Cordelia was still thinking. "That might sound like an excuse for inaction, but it is not. Rather, it is a reason for thorough research. It is the judgement of the board that had Dame Margo spent a little more time in our libraries, and a little less on the streets, she would have realised seventeen points: firstly, that no common evil would dare employ the de la Poers for fear of the council's wrath; secondly, that Wolfram and Hart's pattern of behaviour matched that recorded for the triune beast twenty—five centuries ago, before its apparent banishment; thirdly, that—"

"Renwick," Cordelia said, "we don't have time for this. Tell me exactly what the board has done about Dame Margo, without understatement."

"You need to work on your manners, girl," Sarah said. "The board has deemed Mr Giles's performance adequate, on the basis of her report, and declared his person inviolate. You need not worry about her faction, or any of the other loyalist factions, taking any adverse action against him, or his associates."

Good. That meant Giles was safe, leaving Margo with much less leverage. Confronting her openly would still be too dangerous, but Cordelia should be able to tweak her a little more.

"They have also confirmed her recognition of you and your friends as associates, which means all council members will be expected to grant you certain small favours, such as free access to their outer libraries. While they did not enquire into any private agreements you may have reached with Dame Margo, such agreements lying within her prerogatives, may I take this opportunity to say that if you should wish to repudiate any such agreements with her, or Mr Giles, my party will be able to offer you much better terms."

"I'll give your offer all due consideration," Cordelia said, politely rejecting it. She would not abandon Giles, no matter what. "Was that all?"

"Hardly," Sarah said. "Most of the penalties Dame Margo has incurred would mean nothing to you, lacking as you do any understanding of our great traditions, but I'm sure you'll be pleased to know she has paid an hefty fine, sufficient to pay appropriate compensation to all the civilian victims of her misjudgement, and agreed to conduct herself with greater humility."

That was good, though still not enough, but Cordelia wasn't going to tell Sarah that, not when the woman wouldn't even call her by name.

"Anything else?" Cordelia said instead. "If we talk much longer, people will get suspicious."

"Give me the phone back, Sarah," Wilfred said.

"I don't think so, girl," Sarah said. "Wilfred, you can talk to her later."

Cordelia waited a second, until Sarah had hung up, then took her phone off the hook and smiled at Harmony. "You were saying?"

* * *

"... concede the similarity?" Cordelia said, twenty minutes later. "I could no more have predicted the results of my arrival back here than you could have predicted the results of possessing Harmony."

That wasn't precisely true, Cordelia could have given her wish more than two seconds thought, and Harmony should have known she was doing wrong, but that didn't matter. Cordelia wasn't trying to win this argument.

Harmony scowled. "You could have told Giles what you'd done sooner. He'd have known what happened to me, and done something about it, before I got desperate."

Cordelia concealed a smile. By slowly complicating the argument she'd manoeuvred Harmony into thinking calmly about what Cordelia had done, a great improvement. Harmony would still loathe her, of course, but she'd be much easier to manage this way.

"Perhaps," Cordelia conceded. "So could you. Four words would have been enough. The analogy holds."

"No," Harmony said. "The things Margo says I've done are hypothetical. The troubles you've caused are real."

"Like the body you're in," Cordelia said. "What matters is that the consequences are disproportionate."

It was like Xander and the water pistol, or Buffy and Angel. Buffy couldn't have known Angel would lose his soul, so that wasn't her fault; it was the gypsy's.

"So it's not your fault?" Harmony said. "Then whose fault is it?"

Cordelia smiled. "Never ask Giles that. Willow did, once, and they ended up spending hours talking about Aristotle's classification of causes."

"What do you think?" Harmony persisted.

"We're both partly responsible for bad stuff," Cordelia said, "but only partly. We should both do what we can to put it right, and neither of us should be blamed for the things we couldn't have expected.

Harmony nodded slowly. "I didn't know there were any laws against borrowing bodies, so punishing me for breaking them isn't right, but—"

The building shook, a mild tremor, but Cordelia pulled Harmony into the doorway anyway. On the hellmouth, not all earthquakes were natural.

On the opposite wall the plaster cracked, right underneath the window.

Cordelia stared warily at it. Her house had been through earthquakes before—

The plaster crumbled away, revealing a small hollow.

—and nothing like this had ever happened.

There was a corpse in there, entombed under her bedroom window, a baby's corpse, with strange symbols tattooed on the withered skin, its face contorted in an agonised grimace.

"Who did this?" Harmony said, staring at the corpse. "I don't care if they're dead, they're going to pay."

"We've got bigger problems," Cordelia said. "They used that baby as one of the locks on the thing underneath's prison."

Another tremor, and the corpse slid out of the hollow.

"Put it back," Harmony said. "Now."

The baby's left ear fell off.

"Too late," Cordelia said, scooping up her cell phone. "It's forcing its way out."

As Cordelia was speaking, the baby's corpse crumbled, the skin flaking away, the entrails disintegrating even as they spilled across the carpet.

Cordelia swallowed nervously, but did not look away. If the baby was about to turn into a zombie, or worse, she needed to know about it before it tried to kill her.

"Are you—" Harmony began.

"Yes," Cordelia said, backing out of her bedroom. There was little left of the baby now, only a handful of bones scattered amidst the dust, apparently harmless, but this was the hellmouth. "We've had earthquakes before. Get our friends out of here."

"What are you doing?" Harmony said, half sneering, half uncertain.

"Phoning Giles," Cordelia said, pressing the speed dial, "and rescuing our mom. She won't listen to you. Now, go!"

Harmony took one last look at the bedroom, then fled.

"Hello?" Giles said.

"Giles," Cordelia said. "The baby just fell out of my wall."

"Oh," Giles said. "Damn. Have you tried—"

"Then it dusted."

Another tremor, and cracks spiderwebbed across the walls.

"Get out of there," Giles said quickly, "now!"

Cordelia raced down the stairs, two at a time, then turned left. "I've got to get my mom out first."

Giles swore again, under his breath. "Hurry, you won't have long. Anyone else there?"

Cordelia ran along the corridor, dodging the chunks of plaster raining down. "Harmony's getting the others out."

"What's that noise?"

"Building's falling down," Cordelia said, skidding as she turned the corner. "Can't talk."

"We're coming," Giles said. "Please, try not to die."

Putting the phone away, Cordelia flung the door open. "Mom!"

"Cordelia," her mom said, not bothering to open her eyes. "I'm busy."

She wasn't. She was just listening to the stereo, with a glass of mineral water by her side, good for her problems, of course, but now they had bigger problems.

Cordelia stepped carefully over the chunks of plaster, closer to her mom. "We have—"

Cordelia's mom jabbed at the remote, drowning her out in a blast of opera.

Cordelia snatched the remote from her mom and turned the stereo off. "We have to go, before the house falls down."

The lights flickered, then went out.

Cordelia's mom winced as a piece of plaster hit her thigh, then scowled. "This house will not fail down. It can not fall down. Your dad's money has made sure of that, and he got an hefty tax rebate out of it too. They rebuilt the entire back of this house, to the highest standards, and they'd had done the front too, if it hadn't been for—."

"What's this, then?" Cordelia asked, plucking a small lump of plaster from her mom's shoulder.

Her mom frowned, clearly worried. "Not you too. I had hoped you wouldn't inherit my ... weakness."

"What?" Cordelia muttered, confused. Her dad had said her mom just had a little problem with her nerves, but recognising when the house was falling down was hardly evidence of that —

Another chunk of plaster fell, smashing the stereo.

—and her mom's problems would have to wait. "The house is falling down, mom. You're covered in white dust, and the lights are out. How can you deny it?"

The ceiling groaned ominously.

Cordelia glanced up. She couldn't see much in the near darkness, lit only by distant street lights, but she was fairly sure the ceiling shouldn't be bulging like that.

"Our senses are fallible," Cordelia's mom said, "but I will not be fooled. Since what I appear to be seeing is impossible my eyes must be deceiving me, and yours you, once again."

Cordelia yanked her mom from her chair, pulling her sideways.

Her mom's dressing table crashed through the ceiling, crushing the chair.

"This is real," Cordelia said, helping her mom stand back up. "We'll—"

"I thought I saw something vile in the wine cellar, once," her mom said, her facing paling with the memory. "An hideous— but such abominations can not be. My senses fooled me then, as they often since. Mostly, it's ichor-dripping tentacles, skulls wreathed in dark flame, and giant mushrooms, not earthquakes, but the same principles apply."

Cordelia stared, unable to hide her surprise. She'd never heard her mom mention that incident before, but then she'd never been alone with her mom in this state before. Her dad had always been there, to smoothly divert the conversation away from that topic; very smoothly indeed, to have escaped her notice all these years. It seemed there was more to her dad than she had realised.

Her mom pulled away from Cordelia, stepping two paces back. "Don't let your eyes fool you, Cordelia. You know our house can't really be falling down."

The floor cracked open.

Cordelia glanced dismissively at the door, getting out that way would take ages, then looked out of the window.

There was a rosebush right outside, and the ground was sloping more than she remembered, not ideal, but better than the door, even if it did mean heading towards the centre of the block.

"We're leaving," Cordelia told her mom firmly, hoping she'd listen to an authoritative voice.

"No," her mom said. "I spent years in therapy, learning to—"

The floor cracked open, one crack running between Cordelia and her mom, others cutting them both off from the window.

"—ignore my delusions. I'm not ..."

Cordelia groaned. Wrestling her mom into submission then dragging out of the window would not be easy, but it looked like she had no choice. Her mom wouldn't listen to reason, Giles wouldn't be here in time, and abandoning her mom was not an option.

The cracks opened wider, through them now dimly visible the wine cellars, their floors too splitting open.

Cordelia hesitated, gauging the distance, then leapt.

"No," her mom shouted, dodging Cordelia. "I will not surrender to delusion."

The outside wall collapsed, spilling bricks across the room.

Cordelia watched as they tumbled through the cracks, falling into the wine cellars, and the other cellars, deep below the foundations of her crumbling home. Brick walls were most definitely not earthquake proof; her dad had been cheated.

"This is not real," her mother said, folding her arms. "I deny it."

Beneath her, the floorboards broke away, sending her tumbling into the darkness below.

Cordelia lunged to catch her, too slow, and was left kneeling on the edge of the abyss, listening to her mom's increasingly frantic denials.

After a moment, Cordelia looked up. Time to grieve later. Right now, all that mattered was escape.

The former window was tempting, but this room was at the back of the house, and the Delapoor mansion had occupid the entire block, so, even if she could hurdle the chasm, going that way would put her at ground zero, when the horror rose from beneath. She'd have to go through the house, struggling through rubble choked rooms, and hope nothing landed on her head.

Cordelia turned to run.

Before she had gone five paces, the floor splintered underneath her.

Cordelia grabbed frantically at the remaining floorboards, struggling for a fingerhold, but they crumbled away in her hand.

Screaming, she fell into darkness.

* * *

Cordelia opened her eyes.

Overhead was darkness, the rent through which she had fallen the merest suggestion of grey amidst the black.

In the distance someone was chanting, her mom, still clinging to denial.

Cordelia smiled and sat—

—tried to sit up, but her hip flared into agony.

Moving more slowly, Cordelia rolled onto her stomach. Her left hip still hurt, probably broken in the fall, but she could endure a little pain.

The numbness in her left leg was more worrying, unlike her right it wasn't even twinging, but Margo should be able to take care of that, once Cordelia escaped.

Cordelia propped herself up on her arms and looked around, struggling to see by the dim glow filtering through the cavern roof.

She could not see much, only vague outlines, black against the grey, but in front of her the ground definitely—

Was it ground? Suspiciously, Cordelia felt at the rocks underneath her, swiftly identifying their too familiar shapes.

—the deep-piled bones sloped down towards a pit, its depths thronged with unnatural shadow, darker than the night.

Overhead, the ceiling was slowly crumbling, great chunks of garden falling away from the edge of the rent, into the void below, and as they fell they dissolved into dust that shimmered and was gone.

No immediate threat then, the horror beneath was probably wasting time on preparing its grand entrance, giving Cordelia a moment to think.

Her mom's voice was coming from somewhere in front of her, in front, and below, so she must be on a ledge, part way into the pit. Cordelia would have to crawl down there to rescue her, even though it meant heading in completely the wrong direction.

At least, she would have to if there was any chance of success, but was there?

Climbing down a cliff of bones would have been hard, even if she didn't have a broken hip; climbing back up would be even harder; climbing a cliff with a broken hip and a struggling woman on her back was the kind of thing only Buffy could hope to do.

No, she couldn't rescue her mom by herself; she needed help.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Cordelia slowly pulled herself round, until she was facing up the slope.

It was gentler in this direction, one in three at most, and at the top, only a hundred yards away, she could see the gleam of distant street lights, shining through the cracks in the ground at the edge of her block.

It wouldn't be easy, of course, climbing up that slope while racked by pain, one leg a dead weight, but she was Cordelia Chase; she could do it.

As Cordelia smiled, her palms began to tingle, painfully.

* * *

Twenty minutes, and thirty yards, later, Cordelia slumped down, breathing heavily.

Behind her, her mom rambled on, her words now a litany of madness, product of a shattered mind.

Not good, but Margo might be able to heal her, and if she couldn't life in an asylum had to be better for her mom than death at the tentacles of whatever horror dwelt below, when it deigned to make its entrance.

Cordelia wasn't foolish enough to waste time looking behind her, but the air was filling with the stench of decay, and the thud of bone clattering against bone as something stirred in the depths.

At least it was moving slow enough to give her a chance to escape, and rescue her mom. There were only a few dozen yards to go now, and the slope was levelling out. In half an hour, she would be free, unless the horror was just toying with her, or she collapsed from exhaustion first.

Cordelia raised one hand to mop her brow, and recoiled.

Her hand was leprous; riddled with decay, pus oozing from the many ulcers pockmarking the rotted ruin of her flesh, and in places she could see the dull white of bone.

Aghast, Cordelia stared at her hand, bile flooding her throat, then she shuddered, closing her eyes against the horror.

She'd seen worse, of course. In her shadow-spawned nightmares she had suffered deaths that made rotting alive while trapped in a pit of bones with an awakening horror seem no worse than breaking a nail, but those deaths had not been real.

This was.

Cordelia looked swiftly around, hoping to see something sharp, but could see only bones, some looking centuries old, others almost fresh.

Maybe if she broke one of the long bones the edges would be sharp enough to cut away the rot.

Cordelia swallowed nervously, struggling to control her revulsion at the thought. Doing that would be difficult, mentally as well as physically, but it was necessary. If—

Cordelia's left knee tingled, just as her palms had, scant minutes before.

Cordelia mentally shrugged, almost relieved. She wouldn't have to cut off her own hand; it was too late for that. No, there was only one thing left she could do, well, two: climb, and hope.

At last she knew why her hand had been growing numb, and where that stench was coming from, but knowing that wasn't much comfort when she was rotting alive.

Pulling her arm back underneath her, Cordelia shook herself. Thinking like that wouldn't help; she had to look on the bright side.

Her hand wasn't that bad. Rotting, yes, but not furred with mould nor swarming with maggots.

Grinning maniacally, Cordelia resumed her slow crawl up the long slope.

* * *

A little later, as Cordelia lay prostrate upon the hill of bones, one hand reaching up towards the light, rainbow fire began to flicker across her rotting flesh. 


	19. Cordelia's Ghost: What lay beneath

"Cordy!" Xander said, his voice filling with panic, "What—"

"Stand back," another voice said; young, and female, but not familiar.

"Wilfred," Harmony said, her voice faded by distance, "I won't let ..."

Struggling to ignore her agonies, Cordelia opened her eyes.

Four people were leaning over her, blurred silhouettes unrecognisable to her failing sight.

That didn't matter though; they'd rescued her from the pit, proof enough they were friends, even if she hadn't recognised Xander's voice.

Better still, they must have already defeated the horror. They wouldn't be wasting any time on her if that creature was still a threat. They'd be too busy fighting to stay alive, and Harmony would be miles away.

"Don't worry," Agatha said gently. "Dame Mar—"

"Sanare. Sana es," the other voice said, and the pain vanished.

The four silhouettes snapped into focus; Xander, Giles, Agatha, and a girl, about Cordelia's age, with long red hair, down to her waist.

Blushing slightly, Xander and Giles looked away.

The strange girl was also wearing a leather duster with 'This is a disguise.' embroidered in rainbow letters on its breast. Combing that with her casual use of magic, there could be no doubt who she really was.

"Dame Margo— " Cordelia said as she sat up, then hesitated. "What's happened to my clothes?"

"They rotted, loosely speaking," Margo said. "Agatha, fetch Mistress Cordelia a blanket. While your soul provides you with some minimal protection against the ergovoric aura of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch, that protection does not fully extend to your clothes. Against lesser—"

"Margo," Xander said, and Cordelia tensed. "Can't you magic her up some clothes?"

"Magic is less than suitable for such work," Margo said, the faintest hint of discomfort in her voice. "I could summon clothes from my own wardrobe, but ..."

Cordelia stopped listening. She didn't need to know about the problems of magicking clothes; she did need to know why Margo had stopped insisting on her title. Unexplained shifts in the social dynamic were far more important than fashion, and rescuing her mom from the pit more important still.

"Margo," Cordelia said, tentatively testing the waters, "I mean Dame, my—"

"You do not have to call me that," Margo said flatly. "After extensive discussion with my colleagues it has been decided I should make greater allowances for your unfamiliarity with the standards of polite society.

Cordelia smiled. This must be the enforced humility Sarah had been talking about, neither convincing nor an adequate penalty for Margo's mistakes, but it might make her slightly easier to live with.

"Margo," Cordelia said, more confidently, "did you get my mom out too?"

She probably hadn't, since Cordelia had neither seen nor heard any sign of her mom, but she might have, and giving Margo anything like a direct order was probably still a really bad idea.

"No," Margo said. "Magic generally requires some semblance of a connection with the target, hence the common use of hair and blood. I had nothing so concrete of yours but we are bound in other ways, you and I, bound by the oldest laws, bound by the bread we have broken together, the battles we have fought together—"

Not good news, but Margo didn't have much time left to take advantage of it.

"—On those bindings I called to summon you here. I have no such mystic link with your mother, nor the strength to summon her by name alone."

"There—" Cordelia began.

"Now that you are here," Margo went on, "I can use the bonds of blood and love between mother and daughter to pull her out."

"Do it," Cordelia said.

"The summons will be most powerful if you speak the key words," Margo said, "while I—"

Cordelia's hands were tingling.

"What?" Xander said. "What's wrong?"

Cordelia looked down at her hands, again speckled with unnatural rot, then accusingly at Margo.

"Cessa," Margo said, frowning. "There might—"

Cordelia winced as the speckles raced up her arms and her hands went numb, now no more than lumps of rotting flesh.

"Cessa," Margo said, her eyes glowing bright, then pointed. "Hoc non erit. Veto idem. Dum ero idem non erit."

A stream of rainbow light poured from her finger, wrapping Cordelia in an iridescent shroud, but where her skin was already dappled with decay, the light did not touch.

Xander half-turned, then stopped himself. "What's wrong now?"

"I started rotting again," Cordelia said, staring at her left arm, "but Margo stopped it.

"Only temporarily," Margo said, her voice strained. "It would seem I addressed only the symptom, not the cause."

"Address the cause," Cordelia said sharply, carefully avoiding Margo's glare. "Stop the rot."

Even in Sunnydale, people would notice someone glowing like a rainbow, not all of them, but enough to be inconvenient.

"Dame Margo will," Agatha said, returning with a large grey blanket. "Do not doubt her."

"Strictly speaking, this is not rot," Giles said. "Rot is life born out of death, unwholesome life, but life nonetheless. This ..."

Listening to Giles's impromptu lecture, Cordelia smiled. He was obviously trying to distract Xander and herself from her troubles, but if he thought a lecture might work he clearly didn't know them very well, yet. Only Willow could be distracted that way; Xander required different methods.

"I'm not hearing any magic," Xander said, interrupting Giles. "Why—"

"I was studying Mistress Cordelia's aura, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "It is permeated with that of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch.

"What's Latin for 'Bad aura, go away?'" Xander said, shrugging.

"Mala aura mea would be an adequate translation," Margo said, "but it will not be quite that simple."

"What must we do?" Giles immediately said, half a second ahead of Xander.

"There's nothing you can do," Margo said, "short of self—sacrifice."

Xander and Giles looked at each other, their faces unreadable in the dark.

"There is an alternative," Margo said, "though it is not without peril."

"The Cup?" Giles said tentatively. "Are you sure that is necessary, Dame Margo? If each of us sacrificed—"

"—an hand, it might still prove insufficient, Mr Giles."

"What peril?" Cordelia said warily, "What cup?"

Margo's lip twitched in the faintest of approving smiles.

Cordelia knew, of course, and no one here would be surprised by that, but Giles would be surprised if he found out Xander knew she already knew. He'd get suspicious, further complicating Cordelia's life.

No, if Cordelia decided to tell Giles any part of the truth about her arrangements with Margo, she wouldn't do it in the middle of a crisis, or with Margo herself listening. She'd wait for some quiet day, when Margo was long gone.

"Big magic cup," Xander said quickly, before the watchers could get into lecture mode. "Does water magic. Giles was really impressed by it."

"Nice," Cordelia said, then went back to the important point. "What peril?"

"The records of its use are scarce," Margo said, "but it is a vessel of godlike power. You cannot expect to be touched by it and remain unmarked."

"Like you?" Xander said. "What peril?"

"I am a student of the higher arcanum, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "Mistress Cordelia is not. She will be marked."

"How?" Cordelia said.

"Will she get cool powers?" Xander added, a smile in his voice.

"This is not a comic," Margo said sharply. "It is not impossible that you could acquire a mystical affinity with the oceans, Mistress Cordelia, but taking any advantage of that would be liable to require decades of arcane training. The price of your healing would come due somewhat sooner."

Two bad choices then, but why hurry to choose? Delay a little, and they should be able to find a better option.

"Do you freely consent to the use of the Cup of Albion on yourself?" Margo said.

"Why not send Giles and your aides to the library," Cordelia suggested. "You can keep me alive while they find a safer solution."

"We do not have time for that," Margo said. "Soon, Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch will rise."

"What!" Cordelia snapped. "You haven't k—"

"Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch has not walked this world since before the old ones fell," Margo said. "After so long a wait it will hardly cavil at a few hours more. Rather, if it is like most of its kin, it will spend the time preparing a suitable entrance for itself."

"How long?" Cordelia said, bracing herself for bad news.

Margo shrugged. "Perhaps at moonset, perhaps at local midnight, perhaps at the rising of Algol."

"How long," Cordelia repeated, hoping for a more useful answer, "and who is Pucher—"

"Call it Fein Dahlk," Giles said.

That name Cordelia remembered; the father of the fathers of ghouls, and major bad news.

"It will rise tonight," Margo said. "So the new prophecies tell us. I cannot be more precise."

"Why is Harmony still here?" Cordelia said, moving to the second most important question. Harmony should be at a safe distance, not within earshot.

"Margo thinks this might be your friends' fault," Xander said sourly. "You could have just taken names and addresses."

"Memory is fallible," Margo said. "The wards on this block should have held even if the hellmouth opened, yet they were shattered, not long after those girls arrived. If we are to find out why we have to interrogate them now or risk their forgetting vital evidence."

"They wouldn't do anything like that," Cordelia said firmly.

"So Harmony has claimed, most vehemently," Margo said, "but you are both forgetting our enemies would not require their consent. It would have been sufficient to trick one of them into carrying a portable hellmouth."

"But—" Cordelia began, then hesitated. Harmony would be able to protect their friends from Wilfred, if he stepped over the line; Cordelia had more urgent problems. "Use the cup."

"Are you sure?" Margo asked. "You may experience some discomfort."

Cordelia nodded. She couldn't ask anyone to sacrifice themselves for her, or start cutting bits off, and she needed to be healed before Fein Dahlk rose.

"Very well," Margo said, pulling the Cup out of her—

—apparently pulling it out of her duster, but everything Margo was wearing was illusion. Cordelia couldn't let herself forget that; forgot how to tell reality from illusion, slip into thinking of Margo as what she seemed, and she'd be in serious trouble.

"Brace yourself," Margo said, then hesitated. "I dare not expose you to the full power of the Cup when less might suffice. The potential consequences are too grave for that. Threefold repetition should be able to compensate for the reduced power."

Cordelia frowned uncertainly. She didn't want—

"Tenebris, calice quam maximo—" Margo said, dipping her fingers in the Cup.

"—impero ut fugias—"

Margo lifted her right hand, glistening in the dim light, and held it over Cordelia.

"—Cordelia sanetur."

A single drop of water fell from Margo's outstretched hand and Cordelia convulsed, every pinprick of decay ablaze with agony.

Cordelia bit her lip, struggling not to scream. She wasn't some pathetic little damsel, good only for screaming and being rescued; she was Cordelia Chase and she could take anything.

Eventually the pain stopped.

Cordelia looked at her arms, still riddled with rot, then sourly at Margo. "Your spell doesn't seem to have had much effect."

"Not yet," Margo mouthed, frowning slightly. "I will open the gates wider, despite the risk."

Again Margo dipped her fingers in the cup. "Tenebris, votis quam maximo—"

"Is it working?" Xander asked, still keeping his back to her.

"—impero ut fugias—"

"The Cup of Albion can raise the dead to true life," Giles said softly. "It will work."

"—Cordelia sanetur."

A scattering of drops fell from Margo's outstretched hand, and the pain returned, worse than before.

Under Cordelia's skin, shadows writhed, slowly shrinking, and as they shrunk they grew darker, windows into the void.

The pain stopped, but the rot remained.

"I may have been overcautious," Margo said, smiling apologetically, then more loudly, "If you can hear me, cover your ears, for I must speak a god's true name. Not you, Mistress Cordelia."

Giles immediately slammed his hands over his ears, Xander following suit a second later, after Giles had nudged him.

"Tenebris," Margo said, upending the Cup, "Nomine quam augustissimo, impero ut fugias. Cordelia sanetur."

The shadows shuddered under the torrent of healing waters, filling Cordelia with their agony, but they did not shrink or fade.

Then Margo spoke a Name, a Name that sounded like the laughter of children playing on a golden beach, like birds singing to greet the dawn, yet sweeter than either. It was the sound of new beginnings, of hope rekindled, of an end to all despair. It was the promise of spring.

Around Cordelia the world vanished, and with it all pain.

She was standing in a verdant meadow now, amidst a sea of flowers. Over her head the Cup floated, still pouring its waters over her, and opposite her sat Another, Her dress greener than the meadow, Her hair more golden than the sun.

Her hands were busy, spinning wool into thread, and though Her face seemed girlishly young, Her eyes were wells of wisdom, deeper than the oceans.

She could only be a god.

Cordelia froze, remembering some of the legends she had heard, and would hear. One wrong word and she might get to spend the next hundred years chained to a mountain, with a eagle ripping out her liver every morning. Worse, if the god really liked her, She might turn into a giant spider, and force Herself on Cordelia.

Hastily suppressing that image, Cordelia looked more closely at the god, hoping to spot some clue that would let her know what was safe.

After a moment, Cordelia frowned.

The Maiden's dress was speckled with mould, Her hands a maze of pale scars, and Her face was stiff with pain. Round Her feet the grass was still green but not far away it was withered, as if by untimely frost, and outside that circle lay a grey wasteland, a place of dust and shadows, barren of all life, and in those shadows, veiled by the dust, were shapes dimly seen, pressing ever inwards.

The symbolism was obvious, and unwelcome. Defeating an enemy that could scar the very gods would not be easy, even for Cordelia.

Still, Buffy was a good slayer, and Giles had enough books to answer any question. Together they should be able to win this battle, foiling Omega's current plot, and return Sunnydale to normal, by hellmouth standards. It would be difficult, maybe the hardest thing Cordelia had ever done, but she could do it, with a little help from Buffy and friends.

Winning the war would be harder, but Omega had to be destroyed, at any cost. While it existed, nowhere would be safe for her.

Obviously, Cordelia couldn't kill it herself, even if there were ways for her to gain sufficient power by the time she had learnt to wield it she would no longer be recognisable, but she could help Buffy kill it.

She would have to, as best she could. Do any less and she might lose everything.

The Maiden looked at Cordelia, and Cordelia understood.

Without hesitation, Cordelia nodded, accepting the bargain.

The world returned. The pain did not.

"Blanket," Cordelia said, standing up.

Agatha tossed her the blanket, and two safety pins.

"It worked?" Xander said.

"It worked," Cordelia said, securing the blanket with the pins. "You can look now."

"At what price?" Giles said, then looked at Margo. "I am not entirely convinced that such desperate measures were strictly necessary, Dame Margo. Would not a sevenfold repetition of the second line of your improvised invocation have been sufficient?"

"It would, Mr Giles," Margo said, "if all we were concerned about was the survival of Mistress Cordelia's body, but the survival of her mind was no less important. Even I would struggle to endure the levels of agony you so blithely talk of subjecting Mistress Cordelia to; she would have succumbed to madness before the fifth repetition."

"Not," Giles said, "if the pain were shared with a willing partner, Dame Margo. It would have been trivial for you to create a psychic link between Cordelia and me, enabling—"

"It doesn't matter now," Cordelia said, interrupting while Giles was ahead, then looked at Margo. "Get my mom out."

"I will," Margo said, "after deciding on appropriate safety precautions. Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch's ergovoric aura is already more potent than the records suggested, and growing stronger by the minute, yet we must reach into it to rescue your mother. There is a distinct possibility the aura will be able to surge up the channel of my magic, and taint both our souls."

"OK," Cordelia said reluctantly, not wanting to go through another healing.

"Don't worry," Agatha said. "Your mother, together with many of your neighbours, is probably being held suspended on the edge of death. Fein Dahlk will want to devour her soul, and it can't do that until it has passed the threshold."

Cordelia glared at Agatha, trying not to think about her mom, alone in the dark, abandoned by her daughter. "I am not worried."

"Did you get any cool powers?" Xander said quickly, smiling. "You don't look any different."

"No," Cordelia said, looking round. She couldn't see her house, or any piles of rubble where it had been, but it couldn't be that far away. Margo would want to be on the spot when Fein Dahlk rose.

"You know what price you paid?" Giles said.

Cordelia nodded. A park, surrounded by large houses, and there were two monkey puzzle trees together; it had to be the park diagonally across from her block, just a few hundred yards down the hill.

"What was the price?" Giles said, adjusting his glasses. "If it's too onerous, there may be ways to share the burden."

Cordelia shrugged. "I'll have to obey the sea seven times, or I get to haunt the waves forever."

She wouldn't have to do any suicidal or evil though, and the sea wouldn't ask for more than she could give, so that part of the bargain would only be an occasional inconvenience.

"Those were the exact words?" Giles said warily.

"There were no words," Cordelia said.

"Then how—" Xander began.

"Mr Alexander, it seems we have found another area where Mr Giles has failed to properly educate you," Agatha said. "Many gods consider words beneath them. They prefer to place their thoughts directly into their interlocutor's minds."

"Slept through elementary theology, did you?" Giles said, looking scornfully at Agatha. "It is not that they won't speak but that they can't. The thoughts of such powers are often too vast to be crammed into human words."

Before Agatha could reply, Giles turned back to Cordelia. "What about the Maiden? What geas did she place on you?"

"To face every challenge," Cordelia said, "approximately, but I won't have to do anything stupid. Drinking cyanide isn't a challenge; it's suicide."

Other facets of that half of the bargain might cause more problems, but it beat being dead and Giles might be able to help her renegotiate, later.

"And what did you get?" Giles asked, glancing meaningfully at Agatha.

"I got to live," Cordelia said.

"You didn't ask for anything else?" Agatha said, too casually.

"I've heard the stories about the people who did that," Cordelia said. "I didn't want snake hair."

"Have you heard the stories about the people who didn't?" Giles said.

"No," Cordelia said warily, and Agatha smiled at Giles. "Why?"

"You should," Margo said, "but not tonight, and not where Mr Alexander can hear. Now, if you're ready, I believe we are almost ready to begin the attempt to summon your mother. You will need to stand in front of me, and hold this."

Margo gave Cordelia a piece of paper, six lines of Latin neatly handwritten on it. "The main spell is in Sumerian, which I suppose you have not yet been taught."

"Slaying the undead," Giles said, "has a slightly higher priority than learning languages not spoken since before Troy fell, Dame Margo."

"Therefore," Margo said, completely ignoring Giles, "I will give you a gentle nudge when you need to speak your part. Do remember to pronounce all the letters. First though, I must summon a suitable defence. You might want to keep your distance for this. About ten feet should be safe."

Cordelia quickly backed away, stopping twenty feet from Margo then, once Giles was close enough, showed him the paper. "OK?"

Giles nodded. "She wouldn't stoop that low."

Margo held the Cup out in front of her. "Custodes prisca, votis vos arcesso. Custodite et nos es urbem."

"Necromancy," Giles said, staring intently at the Cup.

Two streams of rainbow light rose from the Cup, twisting round each other.

"But that's black magic," Xander said. "Isn't it? Zombies and stuff."

Three feet above the cup, the streams diverged, one heading off round the block, one circling round Cordelia, and the others.

"Normally," Giles said offhandedly, glaring at Margo, "but I'm sure Dame Margo will not accidentally summon an army of flesh eating zombies."

Away from the cup the streams expanded, glowing shapes just visible within them.

"How comforting," Cordelia said dryly, trying to catch Giles's attention. "What is she doing?"

The shapes were recognisable now; people, dressed in clothes from every age of history, from every continent of the world.

"She has summoned the spirits of watchers past to guard us," Giles said, his voice laden with disgust. "She should have let them rest in peace."

A samurai drifted past, saluting them with his sword.

Nearby, someone whimpered, and Cordelia turned.

Aura and the others were huddled together just inside the inner circle, staring aghast at the spirits, while Harmony and Wilfred struggled to reassure them.

Cordelia took one step towards her friends, then hesitated. Rescuing her mom was more important, so she had to stay near Margo, and if she went down there Harmony would start arguing, which would only get the other girls more upset.

"Aggie," one of the ghosts said, looming out of the circle.

Agatha beamed, her eyes shining with joy. "Dad!"

"Rupert," another ghost said, a grey-haired woman in fifties clothes. "You have done well."

"Gran," Giles said, smiling, then scowled at Margo. "How dare she—"

"I want to be here," Giles's gran said. "I swore to serve while life endures, and it endures still."

"That oath means while your life endures," Giles said. "You should be enjoying—"

"Some interpret it thus," his gran said, "and prove themselves lesser men. It will be your choice, of course. In the instant of your death you may choose to dwell in bliss while the living suffer, or you may dedicate your soul anew to the eternal battle, as I did. I'm sure you will make the right choice, when your time comes."

"You didn't talk like that when you were alive," Giles said. "You always said—"

"The dead see more clearly," his gran said. "Margo is wrong about many things, but she does understand duty."

"Barely," Agatha's dad sneered, "or she would not encourage your rapscallion in his indulgence of these parvenus but then she is no better herself."

As the two ghosts glared, frost condensing in the air between them, Cordelia groaned. What did it take to stop watchers arguing with each other?

"What did you say about my beloved grandson, Henry Broadhurst," Giles's gran snapped.

Xander winced.

"He is not the greatest of watchers," Henry said, "but then his family have only been watchers for five generations. My family have been watchers since the reign of Athelstan. Naturally, we have a greater understanding of the vocation—"

"And yet," Giles's gran said, "in all those generations you have not one watcher of any great distinction. We need only look at your daughter, Margo's lackey, to see how little family history means."

"What do you mean by that?" Henry said, radiating cold fury.

"Um," Xander said, pointing up the hill. "Big evil monster, that way. Shouldn't you be fighting it, not each other."

"Hasn't young Rupert told you yet?" Henry said. "I wonder why."

Giles sighed. "I have. The aura that afflicted Cordelia is in certain respects the demonic equivalent of body odour, though the parallel is not exact. It is interesting to note—"

"You can explain that another time, Rupert," his gran said. "We only have a few minutes left before battle is joined. The important point is that Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch itself is not yet physically present in our world, though it is sufficiently powerful to cast a long shadow before it, a shadow in itself more dangerous than many demons. Furthermore, we spirits are not strong enough to attack Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch and win. We can only shield you, and this town, from the side-effects when it contends with the Cup."

"Are you ready, Mistress Cordelia?" Margo said. "The circle is complete."

Cordelia quickly walked over to join Margo, glancing uncertainly at the ghosts, many of them chatting with their neighbours.

There were thousands of them, packed seven deep round the inner circle, and maybe millions more in the outer circle, protecting Sunnydale. Even a single ghost would be a match for demons, as Harmony had been, and these were watchers, many with magical training. If their discussions got too vigorous, there'd be nothing left for the horror to kill.

"Remember," Margo said, "all the c's are hard. Speak your lines on my prompt."

Cordelia nodded, staring hopefully up the hill. Would her mom just appear at her feet, or would she come flying though the air?

Margo placed both hands on Cordelia's shoulders, and began chanting.

Cordelia's skin tingled pleasantly, warmth radiating out from Margo's hands.

Margo squeezed Cordelia's right shoulder.

"Mater," Cordelia said, one of the few words in the spell she recognised, "sanguis tui sanguinis sum, corpus tui corporis, puella tui pectoris."

Without thought Cordelia pointed, sparks flickering along her arm. Her mom was that way, as surely as water was wet.

Margo chanted another few dozen syllables, then squeezed Cordelia's shoulder again.

"Propter sanguinem quem communicant," Cordelia said, and beneath her skin her blood began to glow, "pont struatur trans noctis barathrum."

Cordelia looked at her hand, the translucent flesh a thin veil over ruby rivers, and smiled. Soon her mom would be safe, soon.

In front of Cordelia the ghosts wobbled, shaken by some unseen blow, but they did not fall and their lines remained firm.

Margo speeded up her chant.

Memories of her mom drifted across Cordelia's mind, of shopping trips together and family vacations, of her mom's face, maggots crawling in her eyes as-

"No," Margo shouted, her voice a army in full charge, and the world filled with rainbow light.

Cordelia blinked, rubbing her bruised side, and looked around.

She'd been thrown twenty feet across the circle, a dozen yards from Margo. Why?

"You OK?" Xander said, rushing to help her up.

Margo lay sprawled on the ground, her cheek resting in a pool of vomit, while Agatha knelt over her, clear evidence something had gone wrong. Fein Dahlk must have struck back, despite the protective circle.

"I'm sorry," Giles said softly. "Dame Margo failed."

Cordelia glared at the ghosts. "What went wrong? You were supposed—"

"Margo had to use the bonds that tie mother and child," Giles's gran said, "but those bonds run through realms barred to the dead. Margo made of them a bridge, and across that bridge the shadow of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch stormed, perverting your memories of your mother."

"But in your mind it gained no purchase," Henry said, "and your body remains free from its taint. For that small comfort you may thank us."

As Xander opened his mouth, Giles's gran smiled.

"You need not worry," she said. "In the battle to come Margo will not need to expose herself thus to cast her spells. The sight of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch will be connection enough for her then, and against attacks that come through that channel we can defend rather more effectively."

Margo stood up, the vomit stains fading away. "I'm sorry, Mistress Cordelia. I have failed you."

"If I meditate, Fein Dahlk won't be able to get in my mind, right?" Cordelia said. "We've got to try again, while there is still time."

"It is too late," Margo said. "We have not trained you well enough to shield your mind against Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch, and it is stronger than we feared."

"Then think of something else," Cordelia said firmly, then looked at Giles. "There must be something you can do. What about the Cup?"

"It is too late," Margo said, "and she is mired too deep. There is nothing I can do, no hope I can offer. I have failed you."

Cordelia stopped listening. Her mom was doomed. Abandoned by her daughter, she would die alone, and in torment.

It wasn't Cordelia's fault, she had tried her hardest to keep her mom her alive, but—

No, she hadn't. She could have asked the Maiden for help. She should have, whatever the cost.

Even if the price had been her own life, it would have been worth it, death was not the end, but no, she had selfishly thought only of her own safety.

And there were other things she could have done, other ways in which she had failed her mom.

Her death would not be solely Cordelia's fault, of course, Fein Dahlk had a larger share of the blame, but it was undeniably partly Cordelia's fault.

Because of her, her mom would die alone in a pit of bones, her fragile sanity shattered by the horror that would soon kill her. She would die, and Cordelia would never see her again, in this life or the next.

Cordelia's mom would die, and she would never see her again. They'd never go shopping together again, never giggle over old photos or argue about Cordelia's boyfriends. Her mom would never see her wedding, never see her grandchild. She had been killed before her time, and Cordelia would never see her again. Never.

"It's OK," Xander muttered, gently patting Cordelia on the back. "You've got us."

Confused, Cordelia looked down, at a patch of damp cloth just under her cheek, covering—

Cordelia hurriedly stepped back, away from Xander. Stand that close to him, dressed only in a blanket, and he would think inappropriate thoughts, since he was male, and she was beautiful.

Xander smiled gently. "You—"

"That did not happen," Cordelia said firmly, with a glare calculated to kill off any false impressions Xander might have gained.

Giles glanced at Xander, who nodded.

"Mistress Cordelia," Wilfred said.

"Yes?" Cordelia said, turning her glare on him, defying him to offer her comfort. Letting him know her vulnerabilities would be a near fatal mistake, giving him too much leverage over her in the long years ahead, but it had only been a momentary lapse, so a display of iron self—control should be enough to outweigh it.

"May I offer you all our most sincere regrets over—"

"It wasn't Margo's fault," Cordelia said graciously, not solely Margo's fault. "My mom was an embarrassment, and half-mad."

Which meant absolutely nothing. Cordelia would still grieve for her, but not here, surrounded by unfriendly eyes, with a demon about to rise. No, she would wait until she was alone, and safe, then quietly mourn her mom in a way that no one could use against her.

"I don't believe you've met my Aunt Cora," Wilfred said, his initial hesitation barely perceptible.

"Nice necklace," Cordelia said, glancing at the ghost hovering by his side, a short woman in a flowery dress and a shapeless hat. "Have you finished interrogating my other friends?"

"As you can see," Cora said, pointing down the hill, at the far edge of the circle—

Cordelia looked. Aura, and the others, all lay unmoving on the grass, only Harmony remaining upright, alone with her sorrow.

"—we have put them to sleep," Cora said, "temporarily, for their own good, all except Harmony. All the children of this town have iron in their souls but that one has steel in hers."

"If only there were more like her," Giles's gran said, "and like these brave children. The world will have much need of their like before its end."

"There are watchers enough," Henry said, "but not the time needed to season these youths."

"How soon?" Giles said, looking suspiciously at Henry.

"A year, no more," Henry said, shrugging.

"Another prophecy?" Giles muttered, then smiled at his gran. "What's the loophole?"

"This doom you may not evade," the ghosts chorused, a myriad spectral voices speaking as one. "This world shall perish before April comes again."

Cordelia smiled. "Two loopholes."

"Some battles cannot be won," Henry said. "This world is doomed. In the face of that certain defeat, we will see your true worth. Do you do good because it is right, or merely because you believed it to be the winning side?"

"There is always hope," Giles said, and Xander nodded.

"The King with all the night at heel is come from realms of mourning," Cora said, her voice sombre. "His armies drink the rivers dry, their wings befoul the air, and they that stand shall die for naught, and home there's no returning."

Giles glared at her. "Should we then sit down and comb our hair?"

Cordelia scowled at Giles. Just because she understood the importance of proper hair care—

—but Giles wouldn't do that, not with the Bodsworths listening. It must be some English proverb.

"What of the trumpet that shall never sound retreat," Giles said, ignoring Cordelia. "What—"

"It lies trampled in the mud," his Gran said. "That power has lain besieged in its last redoubt for centuries now."

Giles paled, then began cleaning his glasses. "I have summoned its wrath to my hand this past week."

"Glorious beyond all measure it once was," his gran said. "Terribly bright it remains, even in these, its twilight hours. It shall never die, but its light shall soon be denied us."

"Cheerful, aren't you," Xander said, smiling. "Just what we need before a fight."

"Those who place their faith in false hopes too often falter when their hopes fail them," Henry said. "True men need no such crutch. Heart shall be bolder, harder be purpose, more proud the spirit as our power lessens! Mind shall not falter nor mood waver, though doom shall come and dark conquer."

"I am glad to see that death does not dull ones memory for the classics, Broadhurst," Giles said icily. "Shouldn't you be preparing for the fight?"

"We are," Cora said. "The dead are not bound by the limits of the flesh."

"If doom inescapable troubles you," Henry said, "you are unworthy of your oaths. It would wager it does not trouble Margo, for all her unnumbered faults."

Margo looked up from her preparations. "My late colleague overstates his case. Clearly, even death has not taught him the virtues of moderation, or of silence."

"Margo—"

"Your prophecy is old news," Margo said, silencing Henry. "I made my peace with it long ago, but putting off the inevitable is the essence of life. I will not deny myself all hope. Even should this world perish, mankind may rise from the ashes of defeat, but the world shall not perish this year. With the wisdom of the watchers guiding her the slayer shall forestall doom, as she has so many times before."

Reassuring, and Margo's phrasing suggested a third loophole in the ghosts' prophecy.

"Margo," Henry said, then hesitated.

Up the hill, above the ruins of Cordelia's house, the sky darkened, becoming a pillar of shadow, piercing the clouds.

Margo held the Cup out in front of her.

Bones erupted from the ruins, rising high above the houses, a fountain of death.

"What's she waiting for?" Xander muttered.

As a second fountain erupted, a myriad skeletons flung into the night, the first changed.

"Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch now shapes its body from the bones of those its worshippers slew," Giles's Gran said. "Margo must wait until it is committed before she can strike, for until then it will not truly be in our world."

The first fountain's new shape was recognisable now, a head the size of a small house mounted on a neck rising hundreds of feet into the air.

More mouths opened in that bone-white neck, only a few feet across; leech-mouths, sucking endlessly at the air.

Margo smiled as the fifth head took shape. "Lacrimae caeli hoc monstrum quam turpissimum a terra abluant."

"Premature," Henry said, as the heavens opened. "Only the hand has yet emerged."

The rain bounced down, great curtains of water, soaking Cordelia to the skin.

"That is sufficient," Giles's gran said. "To wait for more would be hubris."

The rain quickened, drowning the grass in a sea of mud, flowing swiftly down the hill.

Giles didn't seem to notice, but he was English.

His T-shirt plastered to his skin, Xander wrung the water from his hair, a futile gesture, then looked at Giles. "Let me guess. Fein Dahlk is afraid of water."

"No," Henry said, as Cordelia sank ankle deep into the mud, "but this is holy water."

"It's not working," Cordelia said; Fein Dahlk was not bursting into flame, and the pillar of shadow round it was slowly expanding, "but we're getting wet."

Giles's gran smiled, and the rain stopped, inside the circle.

"It is working," she said. "It will prevent us from being distracted by lesser menaces, and it may cause Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch some small discomfort."

Cordelia plucked at her sopping wet blanket. "What about us?"

"Concern with—" Henry began.

"Dry us out," Giles said. "That does not look much like a hand."

"Look again," Cora said, banishing the mud and water with an idle gesture. "Does it not appear familiar in shape?"

Giles smiled. "There is the not so small matter of size."

"Fulmina," Margo said, her finger tracing the Cup's rim, and the sky blazed with lightning, bolt after bolt hammering down on Fein Dahlk's heads.

Dazzled, Cordelia looked away.

"The First opened the gates of Proteus to the Old Ones," Cora said, once the thunder had died away, "then—"

"The details of that are not immediately relevant," Giles's gran said. "That is the hand of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch, exactly as was prophesied."

Cordelia turn to look.

Four of the heads were aligned along a gentle arc, like her own fingers, with the fifth, shorter, head in front, and slightly to one side.

None of them showed any sign whatsoever of the lightning storm.

"That's a hand?" Xander said, his eyes widening. "How big is Fein Dahlk?"

The heads whistled, low and doleful, and five jets of black flame streaked towards Margo.

"Big," Henry said. "All the Old Ones waxed gargantuan during their descent into demonhood but Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch appears to have grown larger still during its long exile."

The flames splashed against the outermost rank of ghosts.

"Not a metaphor, then," Wilfred said, almost to himself. "I'm not entirely we want to see the rest of it."

Three of the ghosts were burning now, only three of the myriad thousands, but that was three more than there should have been.

"Such is the way of prophecies," Cora said. "The metaphorical proves literal; the literal, metaphorical."

One of the ghosts managed to beat out the fires in her sarong, but the other two vanished, consumed in the flames.

As the ghost in the sarong nursed her injured hand — _injured_? How could ghosts get hurt? — the others nearby tried to pull her back, off the front line, but she refused to move.

Margo looked uncertainly at the ghosts, then stared thoughtfully into the depths of the Cup.

Giles looked questioningly at his gran, who smiled wanly.

"Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch is an eater of souls," she said. "Tonight we, the dead, risk oblivion that the oblivious living may remain safe."

"What!" Giles shouted, face purpling. "She cannot ask that of you. It—"

"I could ask no less of myself," his gran said. "I shall never forsake my duty, no matter what the cost."

"Nor," Henry said, "would we be any safer had we taken the cowards' part. In pride the web eternal has been rent. Soon the lords of hell shall learn despair. The dark sun shall rise to shadow the brightest star and time dance to the beat of the fool. So this world shall perish, but Omega shall not be sated. It shall storm the very gates of paradise and naught shall stand against it. The dead shall die once more, and the gods shall follow them, marching into oblivion's fetid maw."

"Another prophecy?" Cordelia said, faking a yawn. There would be a way to evade it. There always was, and if there wasn't, she would make one.

"An abbreviated paraphrase of a passage from the Al Azif," Giles's gran said. "It is not so much as prophecy as a manifesto."

"The Al Azif is centuries old," Giles said. "It has been invalidated by the new prophecies."

Margo turned to face the west.

"It remains Omega's will that those words shall come to pass," Cora said, "and there are few who can gainsay it, even in part."

"There are none," Henry said.

"Dei marinos," Margo said. "Calice quam maximo vos arcesso. Nobis succurrite."

Nothing happened.

"If you would bind the fool, Henry Broadhurst," Giles's gran said, contemptuously, "you are even more foolish than I imagined."

"Madam," Agatha said hotly. "My dad is not a fool."

Cora shrugged. "That doom shall come to pass, somewhere, somewhen. But it need not be here, Henry, nor now, not in its entirety. That this world shall perish is certain, that we dead shall perish with it seems inescapable, but the brightest star need not once more fall, and beyond the circles of this world hope shall yet remain evergreen."

"A fool's hope," Henry sneered.

"What was that spell?" Cordelia asked, hoping the chance to show off would distract the watchers from their quarrels.

Frowning, Giles looked westwards. "She has asked the gods of the sea for help."

"Not asked," his gran said. "Demanded."

"I would not put it quite that strongly," Henry said. "The interaction of Cup and gods is a fascinating subject, with many intricacies. You may recall—"

"Doesn't seem have worked," Cordelia said dryly.

Cora smiled. "From the ocean help comes, as fast as a horse can run."

Then it would be two minutes yet; the sea was nearly a mile away.

Fein Dahlk hummed, a wordless dirge, and the shadow round it swelled, sweeping over the nearest houses.

"Beyond the circles of this world," Giles said, looking at Cora, "are only the demon dimensions. This is the centre, the best of all worlds, least touched by Omega. If it were to perish, how could any hope survive?"

The houses shimmered and were gone, only dust remaining, drifting up the hill.

"To destroy this world is not to destroy the universe that holds it," Wilfred said. "Arrangements have been made."

Agatha nodded. "I have seen the list. While the board make the Old One's victory Pyrrhic, their aides, and other council members, shall shepherd the chosen through hidden ways to a new Earth, elsewhere."

As one, Fein Dahlk's heads all looked up, then bent inwards.

"Ve—" Margo began.

Overhead, the clouds were ripped from the sky, sucked into Fein Dahlk's many mouths.

"—to," Margo said, too late.

So the holy rain had been bothering Fein Dahlk, but not enough.

"Mostly academics, of course," Wilfred added, "but also the better artists and authors, those with true talent. No politicians, though. We do not need their sort."

Then Wilfred shrugged. "We will need a few thousand young women too, to equalise the gender ratio and ensure a second generation, but they need no special qualification. We will just grab some from the streets of Cambridge."

Lost for words, Cordelia glared furiously at Wilfred. That plan was not acceptable.

"At best, a stopgap measure," Henry said dismissively, "and against the doom that comes, it will be of no avail. This entire universe, and all the multitudinous dimensions that surround it, shall perish before April comes again."

"Es non," Margo said, pointing, and a ball of rainbow flame engulfed Fein Dahlk's nearest head.

"So it shall," Giles's gran said, "yet hope shall survive."

"How?" Giles said. "Where?"

"This universe is vast," his gran said, "your teachers told you, a trillion trillion galaxies scattered across the vault of heaven, and around are arrayed a myriad other dimensions, each no less vast, and beyond them lies only the void, out of which Omega came ravening long ago. Now all the dimensions save this lie under its shadow, and the worlds they hold are the abode of demons, rightly called hells by mortal man."

Margo frowned in concentration, clenching her fist, and the flames spread down Fein Dahlk's neck.

Giles nodded. "That is what I was taught. Are you saying they were wrong?"

Xander looked sideways at Cordelia, pretending to conceal a yawn.

Cordelia nodded. If she were reunited with a long dead relative, she wouldn't ask them for a lecture on cosmology, or anything else, but watchers had strange priorities.

The flames died away, leaving Fein Dahlk unmarked, but the watchers paid no attention.

They'd noticed, their suppressed winces were proof enough of that, but apparently they would rather learn stuff than watch a fight, even with their lives at stake, either that, or they were just trying to impress each other by showing how calm they could stay in a crisis, and hoping someone else would blink first.

Well, it would not be Cordelia.

"Not precisely wrong," Giles's gran said. "This world is as they told you, but though it is all that is, it is not all that can be. Rather, it is but one twig on the tree of alternities, and that tree but one tree in a forest without end, and beyond that forest, who knows? Omega is a blight on the entire forest, a threat to worlds beyond imagining, but there are places deeper in the forest its malice has yet only lightly touched, places where the dark holds little fear."

Fein Dahlk's heads all whipped round to face the west, leaning as far forwards as they could.

Its shadow swept over three trees, dust on the wind, slowly advancing towards the inner circle.

"When the dark rises round them, they too shall fall," Henry said. "We must fight on regardless, though all hope fails us."

"A fine principle," Cora said, "but hope has not yet failed us yet. We need not borrow trouble."

From out of the west came a drumming, as of surf beating on the cliffs.

Cordelia squinted, struggling to see through the two circles of ghosts. Something was definitely moving out there, something large.

Then it leapt through the outer circle, and Cordelia froze in shocked delight.

Its body was the rich blue of a tropical sea, shimmering under a cloudless sky, the muscles bunching under its skin the ocean swell; its mane, the white foam of the waves, breaking on a moonlit shore; its eyes, pearls, lit from within by silver fire, and its horn was a spiral of golden sand.

It was a unicorn, beauty and innocence given form, shaped from the waters of the earth by the lords of the sea to answer to Margo's call.

It was also the size of an elephant.

"Small, isn't it?" Xander said. "Barely a mouthful."

From all five heads jetted black flame, shrouding the unicorn in shadow.

Overhead the stars shone down, glinting a dull blood-red.

Red? Since when?

Cordelia nudged Giles, pointing upwards.

Giles watched the flames rage a moment longer, then looked up. "Ah, yes. Of course. We'll not be able to see the stars much longer."

Henry nodded. "Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch's aura saps the energy of all things within its shadows, even light itself."

Cora smiled. "Thus, your earlier ailment. Your flesh dissolved into a chemical soup, and Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch drank the energy released, loosely speaking. The details of the mechanism are really quite interesting."

"Not when you are on the receiving end," Cordelia said.

"In any event," Henry said, "it makes Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch rather difficult to kill, for it can drain energy from the very magics used against it."

The flames died away, leaving a scar down the unicorn's left flank, a scar the sickly green of stagnant waters filled with foul weeds and fouler creatures.

The unicorn's horn glowed briefly, and it was healed.

"There are limits to even its appetite," Giles's gran said, "and the Cup of Albion can surpass them. If all else failed Margo will stuff raw magic down its gullets until it explodes, literally."

The unicorn lowered its horn, and charged.

"We'd lose LA," Giles protested.

The unicorn dodged a lunging head, aiming for the base of the nearest neck.

"Better LA than the world," Cora said.

Technically, yes, but that was not a choice Cordelia ever wanted to have to make.

"Better neither," Xander said.

The unicorn speared Fein Dahlk with its horn, then retreated a few step, leaving a small hole pulsing with the horn's golden light.

Fein Dahlk screamed, its necks writhing in agony, then blasted the unicorn with another burst of black flame.

Giles's gran smiled. "Near-ultimate healing powers do not mix well with their antithesis."

"Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch has not yet shown its full," Cora hesitated, smiling, "hand. Unlike many of its kin, it has wisdom enough to know the value of keeping something in reserve."

"Nor has Margo has yet unleashed the Cup of Albion's full might," Giles's gran said.

"She should have," Henry said, "but—"

"She is unaccustomed to wielding such power." Giles's gran said. "Fortunately, for once she is listening to her colleagues' advice, and practising restraint."

Good advice, most of the time, but Margo was being too cautious. What she'd done so far clearly wasn't enough to more than annoy Fein Dahlk so she should escalate.

Of course, if Margo's colleagues on the board had forced a promise out of her after the earlier incidents, she wouldn't be able to escalate.

"If she was not," Giles's gran went on, "if she had kicked the floodgates fully open rather than slowly easing them ajar, then tsunami would already be hammering this coast."

Now that was a good reason for caution.

The unicorn galloped out of the flames, its horn glowing as it healed itself, then wheeled and leapt at Fein Dahlk, slashing a golden line across its shortest neck.

Henry shrugged. "Perhaps, and perhaps she is merely weak. In any event, this is a useful dress rehearsal for the battles that shall come, before the world perishes."

Fein Dahlk's shadow crawled across the grass, leaving behind a blasted plain, riven by deep cracks.

Xander looked at Henry. "Can't you say anything cheerful? Tell us something good that's going to happen."

Cora smiled. "Your soul echoes to the laughter of the bells. Of your future even the eyes of the dead can see nothing plainly."

Margo dipped one finger in the Cup, then lifted it to her lips and whispered. "Caligines salubres quinque."

A moment later five wisps of mist appeared, travelling away from Margo, towards Fein Dahlk.

"Yet some thing's are clear," Giles's gran said. "Your destiny is tied with Cordelia's, and with your absent friend, who now runs wild with the slayer."

Exchanging puzzled looks, Wilfred and Agatha began quietly talking to each other.

The wisps were larger now, over ten feet across and still mist was condensing around them.

"What bells?" Xander said quickly.

"The laughter of one that says not 'Kismet', that heeds not fate," Cora said.

Henry scowled. "This lad is hardly Godfrey at the gate."

"Great," Xander said. "More riddles."

Giles whispered something to Xander, hopefully an explanation.

The five mists wrapped themselves round Fein Dahlk's heads, thickening into fog.

While it was distracted, the unicorn attacked.

"Nor is he yet Tamerlane, come again," Cora said. "He may yet choose right."

"More history," Giles said quietly, looking at Xander.

Black flames danced across pale skin, burning away the fog, and the earth trembled.

Cora smiled. "To answer your question more clearly would be hubris at which even the gods would balk."

"The sensible gods anyway," Giles's gran said, "few as they are. The witch answered your question with truth disguised as lie wrapped in a semblance of truth; no more dare we tell you."

Fein Dahlk spat black lightning, ebon bolts that smashed into the wall of ghosts, obliterating them by the dozen, but the survivors shuffled round, filling up the gaps.

"And me?" Cordelia said casually, not looking away from the battle. Anything the ghosts told her would probably be grim, and couched in riddles, but even the smallest hint might help her stop more things going wrong.

Fein Dahlk was pockmarked with scars now, some fresh, some healing, and Margo was looking thoughtfully into the Cup, presumably planning her next spell.

"Your future is clouded by his presence in it," Henry said, "but this much is clear: in the year that is to come you will know little joy, and that tinged by much sorrow. Ever downward your life shall spiral, and all that you loved you shall lose."

In front of Margo the ghosts linked hands as Fein Dahlk's shadow reached them.

"For a time," Cora said, "until after your choice is made, for good or ill. Then you may find some semblance of joy while the world burns around you."

The shadow hesitated, then surged forwards.

A few ghosts fell back, their light dimmed, but the rest held firm.

"Perhaps," Henry said. "The omens are clouded, but one thing is certain. This world shall perish before April comes again. What joy can be found in the face of certain defeat?"

The shadow split, oozing round the sides of the circle.

Most people seem to manage," Giles's gran said, then looked at Cordelia. "For you, the next year will be a study in suffering, true, but when the world perishes you will not perish with it. You three children of the hellmouth will pass beyond the circles of this world. Into those far realms we dead cannot see, nor can we read the words of destiny graven on your souls, but it may be that you will find peace there, and happiness. I can offer you no greater cheer."

Cordelia smiled. She wasn't going to lose, of course. Together with Buffy and her friends she would stop whatever doom the ghosts saw coming, destroy omega, and then live a long and happy life. Still, the ghost's words would be comforting to remember if she ever had a really bad day. Even if she could see no hope of winning, at least she'd know she'd survive, in some form.

She might have to spend eternity as a ghost, but that would still be better than having her soul destroyed.

Ebon lightning crawled over Fein Dahlk's skin, its scars fast healing.

"... something we can do?" Xander said.

"No," Henry said. "This is one of the Old Ones, admittedly only of middling rank, but still far beyond your power to harm."

Cordelia nodded. Having to watch helplessly never felt good, it was much better when things were under her control, and doing nothing was also tickling the edges of her bargain with the Maiden, but there was nothing she could do.

At least she had Xander and Giles to talk to. Harmony was all alone.

Cordelia glanced at her, still standing guard over the sleeping bodies of her other friends, and sighed.

None of them should have been here. None of them should ever have been anywhere near a demon. They should all have remained untouched by the hellmouth, as they had in the original history, but Cordelia had failed them.

Harmony, the real Harmony, was the worst off, trapped in the morgue with a horde of demon ghosts, but the others were suffering too now.

They had come to visit her, seeking reassurance after the fake Harmony had pointed out the unavoidable minor oddities in her recent behaviour, and she had abandoned them, leaving them alone in a collapsing house, making no effort to protect them from Wilfred or the ghosts.

That was no way to repay friendship.

Nor would their problems end when this night did. They might manage to repress the memories, but its shadows would haunt their nightmares, and their image of Cordelia would be forever tainted.

Nothing like this must be allowed to happen to them again.

Margo looked thoughtfully at the unicorn. "Dei marinos, calice quam maximo impero ut propugnatori vestro des plus potestatis."

The unicorn reared up, hooves pawing the air, then further up, its body dissolving into sea spray.

"Wait," Giles said as Xander looked at him.

The sea spray spiralled upwards, a waterspout reaching high into the air.

A hundred feet above Fein Dahlk's highest head it flowed into a new shape, a swan glowing with silver light.

How could Cordelia keep Aura and the rest safe though? She had thought merely keeping the weird stuff secret would be enough to keep them safe, but that clearly wasn't going to be enough, this time round.

The swan dived at Fein Dahlk, the beating of its wings like the roar of the waves.

This time Cordelia was not on the edge of the weirdness, easily able to flit between two worlds.

The swan hit Fein Dahlk like a tidal wave, slamming the head back, almost to the ground.

This time Cordelia had deliberately put herself near the centre of the weirdness. She'd had to or she would have been complicit in the deaths she failed to prevent, and it had also left her well placed to punish Xander for his betrayal. Nothing too drastic, of course, she might need him to save her life one day, and he hadn't actually done anything yet.

The unicorn was back, dancing atop Fein Dahlk's middle head, its horn glowing golden as it warded off the ebon flames licking at its feet.

Xander smiled.

"Celebrations would be somewhat premature at this point," Henry said.

Cracks spread across Fein Dahlk's head, radiating out from the dancing hooves.

"How about now?" Xander said.

The head crumbled under the repeated blows, great chunks of undead flesh falling away, swiftly dissolving into a rain of human bones.

"No," Henry said.

Xander glanced conspiratorially at Giles's gran. "Was he like this when he was alive."

Fein Dahlk's other heads weaved through the air, tracing out a complex pattern.

"Mr Alexander," Agatha said, "my—"

"I only met him twice," Giles's gran said, ignoring Agatha, "his party was not welcome at my table, but I did hear that—"

Fein Dahlk's shadow surged forwards, racing where it had crawled, swiftly filling the space between the twin circles of ghosts.

Under its touch the ground disintegrated. Soil, concrete, sewers, bedrock; all became but dust, sucked into Fein Dahlk's many mouths.

Inside the sheltering circle, all was still.

With the ground gone, Cordelia could more clearly see what had lain beneath her block, a sea of bones half a mile wide, its depth unguessable, the legacy of the Delapores.

Xander stared, his mouth moving silently.

Out of that obscene sea, Fein Dahlk's hand rose, now fully visible, a fanged mouth fifty yards across dominating its palm. There were tentacles rimming that mouth, where lips should have been, and many other mouths festooning the palm, each under normal circumstances fearsome, but all pointless decoration next to a mouth that could swallow a whale whole.

A blue flash, and overhead new stars appeared, most clustered thickly in a single river of light, stretching from horizon to horizon, a few, isolated pinpricks in the dark.

"What happened?" Cordelia said, looking at Giles.

"Why?" Xander said. "Why would anyone worship that?"

"Perhaps because they wanted to be eaten first," Giles's gran suggested. "That is how it normally starts."

Around Fein Dahlk's wrist the bones were moving, slowly spiralling inwards.

"Mass elemental transmutation?" Giles said uncertainly, "but what about the air?"

Xander looked at Giles's gran, silently demanding an explanation.

"Some people," she said, "do not cope well with the prospect of ultimate defeat. Rather than struggle against the fall of endless night they rush embrace the lesser evil."

Between one heartbeat and the next, Fein Dahlk's middle head reappeared, completely undamaged.

Cora nodded at Giles. "You need not worry. Devouring the air would have silenced it, and no demon would do that to itself."

"That," Xander said firmly, jabbing his finger at the pit, "is not a lesser evil."

"That," Giles's gran said, "will have come later. Being eaten by Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch is slightly better than living under the rule of the Old Ones, in much the way that Alaska is slightly warmer than the deep Antarctic, so fools worship it, and pride themselves on being able to make hard choices."

Henry nodded. "At first, they may have found the necessary rites repugnant but, after a few years of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch caressing their souls, they would have come to enjoy them, elaborating on them for their private pleasure. Brought up amidst such evil, subsequent generations would ever fallen ever deeper into depravity, becoming as foul as any demon."

Xander stared at Henry, who shrugged. "It is a common pattern, if not always on quite this scale."

The swan circled Fein Dahlk's heads, then dived into the pit.

Cordelia glanced at Cora, then back at Giles. "What happened to the ground? Are we going to fall in there next?"

"If you were going to you would already have done so," Cora said. "The rocks beneath you were devoured too but we, the dead, are keeping you afloat. You will not fall unless we perish."

Cordelia was not reassured.

Nor, judging by the way he was looking suspiciously at the ground, was Xander.

"Fein Dahlk drained the energy from all matter within his aura," Giles said, "to fuel his magics, incidentally transmuting it all to iron dust."

Which it could only do once. The Cup's power was inexhaustible, so Margo should be able to win a battle of attrition, if it came to that.

Looking like a bolt of white lightning, the swan struck Fein Dahlk's palm, destroying one of the mouth tentacles.

The others wrapped round the swan, pulling it into the cental maw.

Cora smiled. "Rather ambitious, even for Fein Dahlk. "

Giles nodded. "As for the sky, those are not the normal stars.

Margo looked uncertainly into the Cup.

"They are dead stars," Henry said, pointing skywards, "their internal fires spent. We see now the corpse light of their last days, the dying scream of matter spiralling into oblivion."

Giles smiled. "He means pulsars and black holes. Fein Dahlk's aura is sapping so much energy from light that gamma rays have become visible, an interesting phenomenon. There are many astronomers who would give their right arms to see this."

Harmony took two steps towards Cordelia, and the others, then stopped and turned her back on them.

"Harmony?" Cordelia said tentatively.

"Stay away from me," Harmony said, her voice perfectly controlled. "Do your weird stuff, and leave me alone."

Cordelia sighed. There would be no helping Harmony while she was in that mood.

In fact, it might be best to avoid her for a few days, give her some time to calm down and think about the good Cordelia was doing, although—

"Do we look like astronomers, Mr Giles," Wilfred said sharply. "Your priorities—"

"If we never looked up in wonder at the stars," Henry said, "we would not be human. If you do not understand that, you prove once again that you are not good enough for my daughter."

Cordelia inwardly groaned. Verbal jousting could be fun, and maybe a distraction from worry, but not if it got personal.

Then Henry glanced sideways at Giles. "And your terminology lacks poetry. How can you expect your slayer to be inspired by such banal language?"

Henry was a fool; good with books, perhaps, but hopeless with people, and not worth Cordelia's time.

While Giles and his gran advanced on Henry, clearly intent on re-educating him, Cordelia turned her attention to more important matters; her attention, but not her eyes. The watchers might be able to blithely ignore Fein Dahlk, trusting the ghosts to protect them, but Cordelia couldn't, and Margo too needed watching.

Avoiding Harmony would also mean avoiding the other girls, giving Harmony ample opportunity to poison their minds against her, and—

Gwen whimpered in her sleep.

But was that necessarily a bad thing? Let Harmony get her way and the girls would avoid her, bad for Cordelia's public image, but better than having anymore of them follow Cordelia into trouble, as the real Harmony had done.

White mist poured out of Fein Dahlk's every mouth.

Fein Dahlk howled, its voice painfully loud.

It would be easy enough to counter whatever Harmony said, later, when the weirdness level was lower, and Cordelia had had a chance to work out how to successfully balance two lives, but for now, it might be a worthwhile sacrifice.

Xander lightly patted Cordelia on the shoulder, murmuring reassurances.

The last of the mist rejoined the water spout.

There would be an enormous downside of course, the loss of her social standing, and all that would follow, but she'd put up with that once before, and keeping the girls alive was important. No one else must be allowed to die because of the changes she had made.

Margo nodded to herself, then dipped one finger in the Cup.

Besides, it would be a strictly temporary measure. She'd need a couple of weeks to sort out the current crises, maybe a few months, to take care of Omega, but after that she'd easily be able to move back into her old life, while keeping the best of the new.

Still, even as a temporary measure, it would feel a lot like accepting defeat. She'd need to think about this a lot more, preferably somewhere slightly calmer than the front lines of a major fight.

Margo sketched a pattern on her forehead with the damp finger, then—

The ground lurched, sending Cordelia stumbling sideways.

"This is not a good time to jog my elbow," Margo said, looking sharply at the ghosts.

A moment's lightness, and a ball of writhing shadows roared overhead, spitting bolts of ebon lightning.

Fein Dahlk's hand rose—

No. The hand wasn't moving. They were, darting around Fein Dahlk's hand on a lump of rock, held aloft by ghosts—

The rock dodged sharply right.

Another ball of shadows zoomed past on the left, its lightnings destroying several ghosts.

"Taking a direct hit would be inadvisable," one of the ghosts near Margo said, "but I would suggest you should not let the resulting minor inconvenience delay you."

The waterspout slammed into Fein Dahlk, lightning crackling along its flanks.

Carefully bracing herself, Margo dipped her finger back in the cup.

Fein Dahlk spat another shadow ball at the waterspout, ripping it apart, but now there were fresh scars on its palm and three of the mouth-tentacles were hanging limply.

Margo quickly sketched a pattern on her forehead, then spoke three words, rolling strings of vowels with barely a consonant between them.

Water sprayed out of the cup, splitting into three streams that wound around Margo, wrapping her in a shimmering net.

In answer Fein Dahlk hummed in five-part harmony, its dirge filled with strange dissonances, and around it the shadows roiled.

Mist seeped from Margo's skin, obscuring her figure, and around her the air filled with rainbow light, an ever-changing cavalcade of colour, swiftly growing brighter.

"Did you remember to bring the popcorn, this time," Wilfred said, smiling at Agatha, the quaver in his voice barely audible.

Outside the circle, shapes congealed from the shadows, a flock of dark birds, vultures maybe, but their heads looked odd.

Agatha smiled back at her husband, her hand reaching out to him. "I wasn't expecting a third act this evening. Think this will be as spectacular as the first two?"

The birds dived on the swan, which dissolved into mist, engulfing them all.

"More so, I should think," Wilfred said, "now that the gloves are off."

"Busy night?" Xander said, smiling at Wilfred.

There was nothing visible of Margo now, only a swirling mist ablaze with light.

Wilfred shrugged. "I've had busier."

Other shapes formed from the shadows; some, natural creatures, warped into monstrosity, others—

Cordelia blinked, trying to make sense of the shapes.

"Don't" Giles's gran said. "They are the dreams of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch given form. To see them too clearly is to see into its mind, not exactly desirable."

A rainbow beam lanced out of the mist, fully five yards across, around it spiralling seven smaller beams, each a different colour.

At first Fein Dahlk's flesh boiled away under that glorious light, but then shadows oozed out of its many mouths, shadows the rainbow could not touch, and they crawled into the beam, up along the beam, approaching Margo.

The mist slid backwards, its light dimming, and the beam wavered.

"Numquam tradam," Margo said, her voice racked by pain.

The beam steadied, but fully half its length was shadow now, carved from night and wrapped in ebon lightnings.

"Mental arm wrestling," Giles said. "The essence of all magical combat."

Fein Dahlk's heads, its fingers, began weaving another spell.

"Margo," the ghosts chorused, "Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch calls upon its master, upon the Ebon Maw. You must accept the risk, and open the floodgates wider."

Margo began to sing, her voice the music of the waves.

Fein Dahlk's dreams flocked around the circle, attacking the ghosts, and their battle cries were as the sounds of death.

The ghosts shouted defiance in a myriad tongues, spectral weapons appearing in their hands, and threw themselves into the fight, all except three.

The ground shuddered beneath Cordelia's feet, struck from below.

From above, lightning rained down, bouncing off some invisible roof, but every bolt was coming closer than the last before the ghosts could ward it off.

Around the circle the waterspout rose up, sending Fein Dahlk's twisted dreams tumbling, but more pressed in, larger and burning with unholy fire, shadowy flames no water could quench.

Outside the circle the shadows writhed in patterns that hurt the eye, and beyond those tenebrous veils could dimly be seen the distant hint of a deeper darkness, filled with hunger and endless malice, a darkness such as Cordelia had seen only once before.

Where the rainbow beam met devouring shadow things were getting really strange.

The three ghosts remaining, Cora, Henry, and Giles's gran, looked at each other, then nodded.

"Time to sleep," Giles's gran said.

"I am not entirely conv—" Wilfred began.

"Your senses are windows on your soul," Cora said. "Through them the forces battling without may gain entry."

"They will," Henry said. "You are all strong in mind and will, but you are not strong enough."

"Maybe not," Giles's gran said. "It is a risk we dare not take. Asleep, you will be safer, and should the worst come to pass sleeping we can take you through the realms of the dead, upon which the living may not gaze."

Xander looked uncertainly at Giles. "W—"

"Sleep," the three ghosts said, "and may your dreams not be troubled."

Cordelia yawned. "I—"

"Sleep," all the ghosts chorused.

Cordelia slept.


	20. Cordelia's Ghost: Battle Preparations

Struggling to her feet, Cordelia looked around, trying to work out where the ghosts had dumped them.

"… greviously injured," Giles's gran was saying. "Her aides have taken her back to England."

It was definitely a graveyard, row after row of grey slabs marching down the hill, towards the gate, but that didn't help much. Sunnydale had too many graveyards.

"Should we still expect her tomorrow?" Giles said, his voice tinged with concern, as he brushed himself down.

The statues on the older graves were more useful. Three angels together over to her left, a carving of the occupant sleeping two graves to her right, another angel killing a dragon twenty yards down the hill; this was the Rowland St graveyard, five blocks from where her house had been.

"You should," Giles's gran said. "Nothing short of death could keep her away."

Five yards away Xander tossed a few pebbles over—

Cordelia frowned. There shouldn't have been an edge there; the hill should have continued up, rising towards her house, and towards her friends' houses.

The hill wasn't there.

A foot in front of Xander the ground stopped, dead.

A few faint lights glimmered in the far distance, well beyond where the hill should have been, but between them and Xander was nothing.

Harmony's house was, had been a block uphill from here, Aura's a little to the left, Gwen's just behind Cordelia's, from this direction, but now the hill on which they had stood was gone, and their houses with it.

Her friends were homeless, because Omega had somehow exploited her wish, and her mom was dead.

Well, Omega would pay for that. Cordelia would make him pay. No one could use her as a pawn in their foul games, twisting her good intentions into a weapon to harm her friends and family, no matter how important they thought they were.

Defeating Omega would be a challenge, but she was Cordelia Chase. She had looked Death in the face, and survived; she could win this battle. She would win it, for her mom's sake.

The price might be high, death, or worse, but so what? She had only had one mom, and Omega's plot had killed her. Vengeance for that crime would be worth any price, however high.

"How deep is this?" Xander said, looking down over the edge.

Giles stepped up behind Xander to take a look, then quickly grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back.

"Half a mile deep," Giles's gran said. "Nearly a mile wide. Unfortunate, but one cannot expect to subdue the likes of Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch without some collateral damage. Indeed, it is a mark of Margo's skill that she did as much damage as she did to it as she did with as little damage to the surroundings as this."

"Subdued?" Xander echoed. "As much damage as she did? Why do I not like the sound of that?"

"You let it live?" Harmony snapped. "Can't you people do anything right?"

Behind her, Cordelia's other friends huddled together, looking nervously at the gravestones.

"We kept you alive," Giles's gran said. "Though that might not be the best counterexample."

"Fein Dahlk is gone," Cordelia said. "Isn't that enough for you?" It wasn't. Fein Dahlk had killed their mother; it had to be destroyed, but if Harmony tried arguing that point it would be easy to make her sound bad.

"What did happen to Fein Dahlk?" Giles said, straightening his glasses.

"The short version, pleases," Cordelia quickly said.

Giles's gran nodded. "You lack the necessary esoteric background to understand a detailed explanation so I will be succinct. In essence, Margo rapped Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch across the knuckles, until it retreated, then nailed the door shut. It is barred from our world for a year and a day now, thus, unless some fool opens the way from this side, by the time it is ready to return the world shall have already perished, rendering that threat a moot point."

Xander smiled. "Six months, you think, Cordy?"

"Three," Cordelia said, smiling at Xander's naivety. There had never been any shortage of fools in Sunnydale, but there was no need to worry about that now. Three months was long enough to find a less destructive way for Buffy to fight Fein Dahlk.

"Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch will not return before the world ends," Giles's gran said firmly, "unless you fail in your watch."

"Cordelia," Aura said tentatively, "Harmony, why are you talking to those losers? Shouldn't we be looking at the, um, damage from the, um—"

"Subsidence?" Giles suggested. "Interesting freak of geology. Comes of building your town on ground riddled with caves. If there's anything I can do …"

"Haven't you done enough already?" Harmony said, smiling sweetly. "Aura, let's go and see what the freak has done to our houses. This is not a cool place to hang out."

As Harmony shepherded the girls out of the graveyard she glanced back at Cordelia, her face twisted into an angry mask.

"I'll put you—" Giles began.

"No," his gran said. "What would people say?"

"Under the circumstances—"

"There would still be rumours," Giles's gran said.

Cordelia nodded. "My dad will get us a hotel room."

"Perhaps," Giles's gran said. "Perhaps not. Several hundred houses were destroyed when our circle was broken by Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch's fury, leaving homeless the thousands we rescued as we regrouped. Rooms will be somewhat scarce tonight, and there are other concerns."

"Vampires?" Cordelia said. "They won't try anything tonight, not after this."

"They would," Giles's gran said, "if the Master commanded it, and he will be desperate to know what happened, but they are not what I was referring to. If your dad finds you with two men, wrapped in nothing but a blanket, how do you think he will react?"

"Bla- Oh, I'd, um—"

Cordelia clamped her mouth shut, before she could embarrass herself further. With all the excitement, it had been easy to forget what she was wearing, but Giles's gran was right. Before she saw her dad, she needed to get some decent clothes.

"He got a shotgun?" Xander suggested.

"No," Cordelia said sharply, her dad was not a redneck. He wouldn't reach for his gun, he'd phone for his lawyer.

"If she stays with me—" Giles began.

"Rupert," his gran said, "last time I looked, there were no women's clothes in your flat, unfortunately."

And Cordelia would not look good in tweed. Borrowing Giles's clothes would be slightly better than wearing a blanket, but not much, and spending the night with him would create too many blackmail opportunities.

"gran," Giles said. "These days- Unfortunately?"

"You should be married by now," his gran said. "Instead, the last woman in your flat—"

"You've been spying on him?" Xander quickly said, cutting Giles's gran off before she could go into detail.

Cordelia smiled thankfully, then looked out over the pit, thinking.

"Death has its perks," Giles's gran said. "I cannot see everything, but …"

Xander would certainly be willing to let her sleep over, but his family would be a real problem. His dad wasn't too bad when he was sober, but when he was drunk his hands started wandering. He probably wouldn't do much more than leer if he found an attractive girl sleeping in his house, but she had already had enough excitement for one night.

Anyway, Xander's mom's fashion sense was even worse than Xander's. Cordelia would rather wear tweed than anything from that wardrobe.

There was the secret apartment, of course, but there was nothing there apart from a dozen crates of books, thanks to Margo's watcher priorities. She could have had Wilfred fetch some furniture, start making the place habitable; instead, the moment she'd got the report on Wolfram and Hart from him she'd sent him to the bookshop to collect Cordelia's order, a necessary task, but hardly urgent.

Watching Xander manhandle the crates had been a pleasant distraction though, musc-

—but she shouldn't be thinking about that. Maybe after he'd been properly punished for his betrayal, but not now, and not while there was any chance Willow would be able to tempt him again.

And none of that mattered right now. There were only two things she should be thinking about, bed, and clothes. She needed both; she had neither.

"… never agreed with that rule," Giles's gran was saying. "If you were married, you would be better able to assist your slayer."

Well, since all the obvious choices were undesirable, perhaps she should follow her dad's advice, and look at the problem from the other end. What explanation would he find the most believable and what evidence would she need to support it?

"Cordy," Xander said gently, "did you hear what I said?"

"I've met your parents," Cordelia said, a guess, but she knew Xander. He looked after his friends, when he wasn't trampling on their hearts.

"Oh," Xander said, grimacing, then after a moment, "Hey!"

"I have," Cordelia repeated, smiling. "Several times."

By now, her dad must know several blocks had been destroyed, officially by freak subsidence, but Giles's gran had clearly implied most of the people in those houses had survived, and were now homeless, like her.

That was where her dad would expect to find her, in whatever emergency centre was being set up. There she would find a bed for the night, and clothes for the morning.

"They're not that bad," Xander said, looking meaningfully at Giles and his gran.

"Good point," Giles was saying, "but suppose …"

"They're worse," Cordelia said firmly, and Giles's gran would be goi-

Cordelia tensed, frowning suspiciously at the ghost. She didn't sound like she was going soon, more like she was settling in for several hours of friendly argument, and the Cup was extremely powerful.

"Cordy?" Xander said uncertainly.

"How long is she staying?" Cordelia asked, looking at Giles.

"Until dawn," Giles said.

"Or until a sidereal day has passed, whichever comes first," his gran said, then looked back at Giles. "If we consider the incident with the witch …"

Then Cordelia definitely wouldn't want to stay with Giles, even if she hadn't already thought of something less gossip-provoking.

"So, you'll stay with me?" Xander said. "I can sleep on the floor."

"No," Cordelia said. "I'll stay with the other victims."

And in the morning she could go shopping, a pleasant break from the weirdness.

"That is not sufficiently safe," Giles's gran said. "The nearest emergency centre is in your school."

Right on top of the hellmouth, but that shouldn't be a problem. Find some excuse to sleep in the library, and she'd be safe from anything short of apocalypse, thanks to those seals the board had given Giles.

"You could stand guard over me," Cordelia suggested, confident the ghost wouldn't accept the offer. She was too eager to spend the time talking with her grandson. "Or—"

Giles's gran tapped her chin, twice. "That might attract unwelcome attention, but there is a spell I could cast."

"And your clothes?" Xander challenged. "My mum—"

"—does not have your sense of style," Cordelia said. "I'll say I was in the shower when it happened. This blanket is all I could grab. Won't the seals on the library be enough?"

"The beds are being set up in the gym, not the library," Giles's gran said. "No, this spell will draw less attention, and it will not protect only you. If any evil enters the gym, I will be summoned to your aid."

Which would be useful, but not as good as actually being inside the library seals. Getting Giles's gran to back down would be difficult though, and standing around the crater, arguing loudly, would be considerably less safe than sleeping in the gym.

"Ok," Cordelia conceded. "Magic me."

* * *

"What is it this time?" Cordelia snapped, glaring at the ghost. She'd already been woken three times, for no good reason. 

Oh, Giles's gran claimed she was doing it because she didn't want to insult Cordelia by implying she was useless in battle, but the ghost had to know she didn't think that way.

The real reason was obvious: Giles's gran thought watching her fight would be educational. That was why she'd paused, mid-battle, to lecture Cordelia on the weaknesses of her opponents. She wanted Cordelia to learn how to defend herself against the weirdness, and she only had a few hours to teach those lessons in.

It was not enough time, and the conditions were all wrong. Being woken from deep sleep to face a deadly menace might help some people learn, but not Cordelia. The memory of how the slime had glistened on the first ghost's ethereal tentacles as they had snaked up Aura's legs was crystal clear, unfortunately, but the accompanying lecture was long forgotten.

"Dawn is coming," Giles's gran said. "I thought I'd say goodbye."

"It's not even seven yet," Cordelia said, glancing at her watch. "I need my sleep."

"Rupert," his gran said, "has already been awake for the last hour, preparing for today, and he is somewhat older than you. At your age you—"

"I could stay awake all night," Cordelia said quickly, "if I had to. I didn't."

"Which is why I let you sleep so late," Giles's gran said, "but you too have a long day ahead of you."

"If you freaks are going to argue," Harmony said, propping herself up on one elbow as she rubbed her bleary eyes with the other hand, "could you do it somewhere else and let us normal people sleep."

"Normal?" Giles's gran said. "You still consider yourself normal? How refreshingly optimistic."

"I am normal," Harmony insisted, twitching only slightly under the ghost's knowing smile. "I'm not going to do any more weird stuff."

"You have walked as one dead," Giles's gran said, "and drunk the Hadean wine. You have looked upon the courts of oblivion, and not been consumed. One cannot hope to do such things and remain unmarked."

"Can't you talk straight?" Harmony said, vainly attempting to hide her confusion under a scowl.

"A little friendly advice," Cordelia said, faking a smile. "Don't start an argument with a watcher unless you're fully awake."

Harmony smiled back, equally insincerely. "What did she mean?"

"You can't go back," Cordelia said. "You've seen too much. You won't be able to forget it."

"I don't have to forget it," Harmony said. "I can ignore it."

"It will not ignore you," Giles's gran said. "Perhaps you will be able to retain a semblance of normality for a time, perhaps, but one day your destiny shall claim you."

"I have a destiny?" Harmony said, then her voice filled with sarcasm. "Just what—"

"You can escape it," Cordelia said firmly. If Harmony couldn't have a normal life, once they'd found a spare body for her soul, Cordelia herself would have no chance of normality, ever, since she was much more deeply involved in weirdness, but that conclusion was completely unacceptable, so Harmony must be able to have a normal life; either that, or there was no hope for Cordelia.

Besides, Harmony needed a few months of normality to get over the mental trauma of her time as a ghost.

"She has not heard the laughter of the bells," Giles's gran said, then smiled. "Your souls are twin, their destinies shrouded by the selfsame veils. Her path shall parallel yours, for a time; more I cannot see."

"Speak English," Harmony said, ignoring Cordelia warning glance.

"This night has ended," Giles's gran said. "Dawn—"

The ghost vanished.

"I am not going to end up like you," Harmony snapped.

"I don't want you to," Cordelia said, smiling reassuringly.

"Then stop dragging me into weird stuff."

"Harmony" Cordelia began, then hesitated. She had any every right to defend herself against Harmony's misconceptions, and the debate would be fun, but it would not serve Cordelia's long term goals.

"We could spend all morning bickering," she said instead, "and wake the others up, or we could go and grab the best clothes from the donation box while they're still asleep."

"Best?" Harmony said. "Have you looked in that box?"

"They've got to be better than a blanket."

Harmony said nothing, a blatant bluff.

"Suddenly," Cordelia said, feigning resignation, "tweed doesn't seem so bad."

Harmony nodded. "You do spend a lot of time in the library."

A completely false insinuation. Harmony clearly needed a little reminder of the advantages of experience.

"I suppose you might have enough poise to wear that dress," Cordelia said, her voice carefully pitched to suggest Harmony would find it easier to make a new one.

Harmony looked down at her dress, and scowled. Decades out of date, and lightly battle-stained, Harmony would have had difficulty wearing it with conviction, even if she hadn't slept in it.

"My gym clothes are in my locker," she said, her voice faintly tinged with well-concealed wariness.

"And the key?"

"They'll unlock it for me."

"They might," Cordelia said, "or they might tell you not to waste their time when they have so many people to clean up after, and there's a box of perfectly good clothes right there."

Stymied, Harmony switched back to her original line of attack. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see Giles," Cordelia said, generously allowing Harmony a taste of victory, then ripped it from her. "After, I've checked in that box myself, just in case there's something you've overlooked."

* * *

"—heard of double blind tests," Wilfred was saying contemptuously as Cordelia approached the library doors. 

"It's a fake?" Giles said, almost shouting. "Why—"

"To ensure the safety of the slayer," Wilfred said. "That is the rationale."

Cordelia quietly leaned against the wall by the doors, hoping they'd been too distracted to hear her approaching footsteps. If they didn't realise she was listening she could go in at the best time for Giles, rather than accidentally giving Wilfred the distraction needed to get off the hook, and she might learn something useful about Buffy.

"By poisoning her?" Giles said sceptically.

Poison Buffy? That didn't make any sense. Giles must be exaggerating for rhetorical effect. He would never hurt Buffy, no matter what, and while Margo and her aides were not nice people, they were good people. None of them would stay in an organisation that hurt the people they were supposed to be helping.

"It is clearly unsafe for her to have a watcher who would try," Wilfred said. "Such watchers must be identified, and removed. Similarly, if the invigilator attempts to enforce the official rules, they can be discreetly sidelined; permitted the appearance of the power they would abuse, but not the reality."

Which sounded typically overcomplicated. The council would need some way of weeding out unsuitable watchers, but there were simpler ways to avoid cheating than not telling watchers what the real test was.

If the test involved fake poison, and it did sound like it might, that was another strike against it. Someone might accidentally use a real poison.

"Find another way," Giles said. "The slayer's life should not be risked in some warped psychological test."

"That is what Dame Margo told the board," Wilfred said, "at great length, but Dr Spode was adamant that the safeguards were satisfactory."

"I—" Giles began.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Wilfred said, too smugly, "but isn't Dr Spode your faction's patron?"

"That—"

"And I seem to recall it was Dr Spode's current protégé who personally sponsored the traitor Travers's career."

Cordelia straightened up, mentally preparing her ammunition. No doubt Giles could rebuff Wilfred unaided but failing to help him when she could would be wrong. Giles was one of her allies; he deserved her help and he would get it, when the time was right.

Simply blundering into the library, the way Willow or Buffy might, would not help Giles at all.

"Are you casting doubt on Dr Spode's judgement?" Giles asked. "The board—"

"Never," Wilfred said quickly. "It is not for the likes of us to challenge the wisdom of the board. I was merely noting, as any competent listener would have discerned, that your faction is in disrepute, the implication clear to anyone of sense being that—"

"—decisions made while Dr Spode's faction was paramount will be reconsidered," Giles said, distancing himself from his former faction.

"Then—"

"But," Giles said, overriding Wilfred. "Your faction is no better. I will not give you a blank cheque, merely because—"

"Dame Margo's testimony gained you an exemption?" Wilfred said. "Have you no gratitude?"

"Dr Spode's faction is in disrepute," Giles said, a smile in his voice.

"But it will take a decade to repeal all the erroneous decisions made during its paramountcy." Wilfred said. "Your slayer will be eighteen in only two years."

"Then you repeal the fake test first," Cordelia said as she walked into the library.

"You were listening?" Giles said, sounding part surprised, part concerned.

Even Cordelia might have been fooled, if his posture had not been subtly off. He must have known someone was listening, and decided to keep them in reserve.

"You were shouting," Cordelia said casually, then looked at Wilfred. "What are you after?"

"How much do you know?" Wilfred asked, looking thoughtful.

"You test watchers," Cordelia said. "You give them fake poison and order them to kill their slayers. If they obey, they fail."

"Essentially correct, Mistress Chase," Wilfred said.

"But too simple for the geniuses who thought it up," Giles added, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Vampires are so easy to control."

"Dr Spode claims that is merely for verisimilitude," Wilfred said. "Supposedly, the safeguards would prevent—"

"What I want to know," Cordelia said bluntly, "is why you're telling him this now, here, where anyone could overhear you."

Normally, Cordelia would have preferred to take a subtler approach, but it was still early morning, and Wilfred was not Joyce. He worked with Margo; he would recognise what she was attempting. Better to leave the subtleties to Giles and play bad cop. That way there was a chance Wilfred would underestimate her, and if not, no loss.

"I thought Mr Giles would like to hear the good news," Wilfred said, "but he seems to be somewhat lacking in gratitude."

Cordelia laughed sardonically. "Not because you're trying to get something from Giles?"

"Please excuse Cordelia's brashness," Giles said. "She is young, and American." Then he started polishing his glasses. "Still, I do wonder at your timing. It may be naive of me, but I would have thought Dame Margo would give me this good news herself, not leave it for one of her aides to blurt out in the midst of heated discussion."

Wilfred winced, and rightly so. Had Margo played that card, she could have made Giles promise her anything; Wilfred had fumbled it, achieving nothing.

"I have Dame Margo's full confidence," he said haughtily, a faint tremor in his voice.

"What were you talking about anyway?" Cordelia said, casually feeding Giles a straight line.

"Our plans for today," Giles said. "They seem to be a little hazy in some areas. When I pressed Mr Bodsworth for the details, he got quite indignant, saying that I should trust Dame Margo's plan's unreservedly since she has done so much for us, which is where you came in."

So, Wilfred had refused to reveal Margo's plans, Giles had verbally boxed him into a corner, and Wilfred had played a surprise card rather than admit his secret. Whatever plan he was hiding must be important, and it affected Cordelia. She had to find out what it was.

"I'm sure Giles will thank Margo properly, when he next sees her," she said, a crude threat calibrated to feed Wilfred's prejudices, and set up Giles's next move.

Wilfred hesitated, then smiled. "I'm sure Dame Margo is looking forwards to that. Do you really believe she did not anticipate this conversation?"

Perhaps she had. Setting Wilfred up to be blackmailed by Giles had obvious advantages, and watcher politics was labyrinthine enough to explain why she daren't be more direct.

However, overestimating Margo was as dangerous as underestimating her. Overestimating anyone was, really. Rely too much on her friends, and she could be hurt when they failed; fear too much her enemies, and her own fears would defeat her.

If Wilfred was wrong, if this leak really was unplanned, then Wilfred had to go along with the blackmail, or damage Margo's reputation and that of everyone she had backed, including Giles, Buffy, and Cordelia herself.

If Wilfred was willing to risk all that, rather than admit Margo's plans for tonight, then perhaps Cordelia should be patient. Knowing too much could sometimes be as dangerous as knowing too little.

Giles looked speculatively at Wilfred for a few moments, then smiled. "Faith is a virtue, even when misplaced."

"So it is," Wilfred said, then fell silent.

The two watchers looked at each other, identical fake smiles on their lips, and waited.

Cordelia watched them both, considering her own options. She did need to know what Margo was planning, but not at any cost. Which way should she jump?

"_Oblivii praeco tenebrae jecit in mentes illorum qui vidit_," Wilfred eventually said, almost whispering. "_Quam meditatio sola diu non potest arcere_."

More Latin. Wilfred had found a way to tell Giles without telling Cordelia, which confirmed the secret was being kept from her specifically. Wilfred had probably only tried to keep it from Giles because he didn't trust Giles's discretion enough.

He should have. Giles would not deliberately endanger anyone. If a secret needed keeping, for Cordelia's safety, he would keep it. If it didn't, she should be told.

He could be wrong, of course, and he was sometimes overprotective, but mostly he was right. If he decided not to tell her everything, she would trust his judgement. In the meantime, all she could do was watch them carefully, and see if she could learn anything useful from their twitches.

"That," Giles said slowly, "would not be good. Are you certain?"

"Morley's 'The Fall of Irem' is quite clear," Wilfred said, looking sympathetically at Giles, "and Dame Margo has found confirmatory evidence in the annals of the board."

Both historical references. Wilfred must be worried about some past tragedy repeating.

"_Documenta mihi videnda est_," Giles said, then started polishing his glasses. "_Quae consilia vestra est_."

The first word had definitely been documents. Giles must want to check the evidence, but he didn't look like he had much hope Margo would be wrong.

"_Haec nox_," Wilfred said, "_donabimus eis subsidium quos egent ne fiant dementes. Eorum jurandum votis quam maximo confirmabimus, sed nisi cogitata suorum lucri non habuerent deerit._"

Cordelia couldn't begin to guess at the meaning of that, not without spending a few months studying Latin first, but Giles's twitching eyebrows suggested Wilfred had just told him the plan.

"A daring solution," Giles said. "Will it work?"

That confirmed there was a problem, and suggested Giles didn't think Margo's solution was itself dangerous, at least not in the short term.

"Of course," Wilfred snapped. "You have Dame Margo's guarantee."

Giles frowned. "_Scis eventuus._"

Great. Back to the Latin. The second word had to be event, but the first could have been anything.

Wilfred nodded. "_Oportet, male_."

"Perhaps," Giles said. "You have my provisional consent, pending proof of your claims."

"I hope I may trust your discretion," Wilfred said, then looked at Cordelia. "You do know why we didn't ask you to leave?"

"You forgot I was here?" Cordelia suggested. "I was being very quiet."

Wilfred half-smiled. "Mistress Cordelia, we are not so naive as to believe that, nor, I am sure, do you think us so. Try again."

Cordelia scowled. "It's seven a.m, and I haven't had any breakfast yet. Talk straight."

Giles put his glasses back on. "Isn't the canteen open yet?"

"Not until eight," Cordelia said, thinking. Wilfred hadn't been completely fooled by her brash act; he knew she knew the real reason for letting her stay, unless he was bluffing which he wouldn't be if he didn't suspect his bluff was true.

"I would have thought," Giles said, clearly buying Cordelia more time to think, "that this town would …"

Cordelia frowned, struggling to remember what she had said to Wilfred and Agatha that might have made him suspect her of being good at detecting hidden motives and to decide if he might have any ulterior motives for admitting not being deceived, then mentally shrugged. It was too early to be thinking about anything more complex than a basic triple bluff. Trying would just leave her more confused.

Instead, she should just stick to the unadorned truth. She'd be able to explain away any inconsistencies later, when she hadn't just woken up.

"… some indications of complicity," Wilfred said. "But following up on those should be within your capabilities. Mistress Cordelia, have you reconsidered your answer?"

"You wanted to know where I was," Cordelia said. If they'd let her out of their sight, she could have started telling people what she'd overheard. She wouldn't have, Giles might have got hurt, and talking would have lost bargaining power, but she might have. Others would have.

Wilfred nodded. "I can trust Mr Giles's discretion, now that he's been made aware of the circumstances. Can I trust yours?"

"I don't speak enough Latin," Cordelia said. "If you trust Giles, why didn't you tell him earlier? I wouldn't have overheard anything then."

"Mr Giles is human," Wilfred said. "Mistakes do happen, and you can be quite observant."

Giles smiled. "Not after sitting through three hours of ceremony. She will be just alert enough."

"Three hours?" Cordelia said, "That's—"

"The short version," Wilfred said. "Performing the ceremonies in full would take over two hundred years."

"Two hundred—"

"Unfortunately, we will not have time for that," Wilfred said, "nor even for the Rodriguez abridgement, but one does not casually stroll up to the gates of death. Dame Margo intends to march to her doom with banners flying."

"And we are to march behind her," Giles said, "part of the way. It will be exceedingly dangerous—"

"More dangerous than last night?" Cordelia suggested.

"Perhaps," Giles said. "You may need to fight off a horde of demons, by yourself."

"What will you be doing?"

"Fighting off a horde of demons, by myself."

"Oh," Cordelia said, faking a smile. "One of those plans."

It couldn't be quite that dangerous, or Giles would be refusing to co-operate. He must be trying to discourage her for her own safety, which meant this plan was risky but not suicidal.

"You can explain the details later," Wilfred said. "First, we need to discuss the other matter."

"The fake test?" Cordelia said. "I should tell Buffy."

Wilfred sighed. "Mistress Cordelia, we both know the score."

Cordelia nodded. "You have an agreement with Giles. You do not have one with me."

"Protocols have been agreed," Wilfred said, carefully not looking at Giles. "You cannot reasonably ask for more, and indiscretion on your part—"

"Will you stick to the letter or the spirit?" Cordelia asked, laying her offer on the table. "You've already told Giles about tonight so he—"

"There will be other favours Mr Bodsworth can do for me," Giles said.

"Nor would I attempt to twist my given word," Wilfred said. "Are we agreed?"

"We are," Giles said as Cordelia nodded. Being able to blackmail Wilfred would make working with him much easier.

Wilfred glanced at his watch. "I'm running late. Is there anything else we need to urgently discuss, Mr Giles?"

Giles smiled. "Your proofs."

"Dame Margo is expecting Mistress Cordelia at nine," Wilfred said. "I'll bring the references round for ten past."

"Why—" Cordelia began.

Wilfred looked at Cordelia. "Dame Margo said she wanted to see you. No further explanation should be necessary, nor did I ask for one."

Cordelia smiled sweetly at him. "So that's a morning of lectures, and a evening fighting demons. Is that it for today, or have you put me down for an afternoon in the sewers. I would like to know, since—"

She dropped the fake smile, her voice rising as she let her anger show. "—I'm the one who'll be doing it."

"Mistress Cordelia, if you are unwilling to assist in the battle against the dark, you—"

"Margo called me your comrade-in-arms," Cordelia reminded him. "Are you questioning—"

"Never," Wilfred said. "But—"

"I think," Giles smoothly interrupted, "the problem is that Cordelia is not entirely convinced that following Dame Margo's advice unquestioningly is necessarily the best course, not when she has spent fifty years under house arrest for poor judgement."

Wilfred bristled, but Giles ignored him. "Perhaps, if you actually told Cordelia what you can of your plans, and why you think them necessary, rather than taking her for granted, you might find her more co-operative."

"I suppose I could give Mistress Cordelia a brief précis," Wilfred conceded. "Allowances must be made for her extreme youth. She is not even thirty yet. Respect for inarguably superior authority was probably too much to expect of her."

Cordelia graciously let that attempted insult pass unchallenged. Wilfred had already lost this round, badly. Kicking him while he was down, in front of Giles, would only make her look bad and fuel Wilfred's resentment.

Wilfred turned to face her. "Dame Margo has just begun giving Mr Alexander the benefit of her wisdom on a subject unknown to me, for a reason of which I have not been informed. She anticipates that two hours will be sufficient to give him an adequate grounding in the subject, which takes us to nine o'clock. You are to join him then, so that Dame Margo can furnish you both with certain useful items, which I am not at liberty to talk about in front of Mr Giles."

"Join them where?" Cordelia asked. "Or shall I—"

"To name the location in front of Mr Giles would be somewhat less than discreet," Wilfred said. "However, this time you will arrive before nightfall."

Implying that last time she hadn't. He must mean Eyam. It had been dark there, and Margo had said something about supplying furniture and a small library for Cordelia's secret apartment.

Cordelia frowned. Watching Xander struggle with heavy crates and heavier furniture would normally be a pleasant way to spend a Sunday morning, especially if he took his shirt off, but not with Margo for company, and Xander might get the wrong idea. She did need the furniture though, and the books should be useful, as would the magic door. Eyam was conveniently close to London, and its great shopping. Once Margo was gone—

—which wouldn't be long now. By tomorrow, she'd be dead, her soul sealing the deathgate. Given that, Cordelia couldn't really complain about the way Margo treated people. It'd sound too much like whining. She would go to the apartment, and—

Cold metal brushed Cordelia's right palm.

She automatically closed her fingers round it, feeling its shape. A key, but no one was stood nearby. Where had it come from?

Cordelia hesitated, then held the key up in front of her. Large and gold-coloured, with a hexagonal head, it certainly looked like the apartment key she got yesterday, the one she'd left behind when she'd run out of her bedroom, just before her house had been destroyed.

Well, if the key could teleport into her hand the moment she thought about going to the apartment, it could have teleported out of a collapsing house. Margo hadn't mentioned anything about teleporting keys, but then Wilfred had arrived before she'd finished explaining how she'd magicked the apartment. Perhaps—

"You know where Mr Bodsworth means?" Giles asked, looking curiously at the key.

"This is not a key Winston gave me," Cordelia said, smiling as she put it away.

Giles nodded, apparently satisfied by her quickly improvised cover story, then looked at Wilfred. "How long will we have while they're with Dame Margo?"

"Over three hours," Wilfred said, "but my wife will be meeting me here at eleven, once she's finished at the TV station. Two hours should be long enough."

Giles frowned curiously. "What's she doing there?"

"Planting some gadget of Dr Pawley's. It'll keep the civilians out of our way tonight," Wilfred said, then smiled at Cordelia. "Nothing has been planned for this afternoon. You could spend the time enjoying yourself, or you could spend it girding yourself for the coming battle, as we will be doing."

Of course, the best way to do that was by enjoying herself. If she spent the afternoon in the mall, restocking her wardrobe, it would remind her why the world was worth fighting for. If she spent it dwelling on the coming fight, all she'd do would be unnerve herself, but she couldn't expect Wilfred to understand that.

"You will need to be here by eight for the ceremony," Wilfred went on. "If Mr Giles would like to tell you what he can about that, and about what will follow—"

Giles nodded.

"—then I really must be off."

Cordelia waited until Wilfred had gone, then smiled at Giles. "So, what can you tell me?"

* * *

"Are you sure?" Giles said, ten minutes later. "If you don't want to do it, I will back you up." 

"Of course I don't want to," Cordelia said. "But that doesn't matter. It needs doing."

And Giles had to be exaggerating the dangers. He wasn't as romantic as the Bodsworths; he wouldn't throw his life away in a noble gesture, and yet he was planning to take part. He must be expecting to survive, with only minor injuries.

Margo was clearly expecting everyone to survive too, all her plans were based on that assumption, and she should know how great the dangers were.

If Cordelia hid in the library, letting others fight for her, only for them to return with nothing worse than scratches, her reputation would be ruined. If Margo was wrong, and Xander or Giles did get badly hurt, they'd inevitably blame her for not being there to help, and if the plan completely failed, letting Loki escape, everyone would die, herself included.

No, there was nothing useful to be gained by avoiding this fight.

Cordelia smiled at Giles as she picked up the last piece of toast, not her favourite breakfast, but it was all he had been able to offer and it did make a useful prop.

"If you are sure," he said, shrugging. "The double duality would be useful. Male and female, young and old; there is much we can do with that. Do you think Xander is more earth or fire?"

"The four elements," Cordelia guessed. "Can't you tell from his star sign?"

"That is a contributing factor," Giles said, "but not the sole determinant. Most people end up almost perfectly balanced between the four. This doesn't normally pose a problem when practising magic since there are ways to temporarily enhance elemental affinities; however, I've only got you two to work with."

Where had that last sentence come from? Giles wasn't going to be doing any magic of his own; he would just be reinforcing Margo from a safe distance. At least, that was what he had said the plan was.

Giles looked at Cordelia, then sighed. "You won't have read the paper yet, will you?"

"What's gone wrong now?" she snapped, scowling. She already had Margo, the deathgate and the hyenas to deal with; she did not need more problems.

"You remember where you last saw Buffy and Willow?" Giles said, vanishing into his office.

"Chasing a demon," Cordelia said. "Just before the car park blew up."

"They'll be repairing that today," Giles said, his voice muffled. "Avoid the contractors, and the police."

"But it's Sunday," Cordelia protested, then switched back to the first topic. "You think they went hyena?"

That would be bad news, in normal circumstances, but next to the dangers of helping seal the deathgate it was nothing. Still, Giles wouldn't deliberately add to her worries at a time like this, unless he needed her help, which he had just implied he did.

He must want Xander and her to help him get rid of the hyena spirits tonight, even though he knew she'd be busy helping Margo. If Giles was willing to interfere in her plans, and risk letting Loki escape, rather than simply waiting until tomorrow, when she would be gone, either there was another apocalypse threatening or Buffy was in mortal danger.

Cordelia leaned back in her chair, waiting to find out which. She could simply ask Giles, of course, but a direct question could be misinterpreted and he'd be telling her soon enough anyway.

"They need to replace the broken windows today," Giles said, "or they wouldn't be able to use those classrooms tomorrow. Several of the possessed students did succumb to their hyena instincts, but I don't know if Buffy and Willow were among them."

"Willow was," Cordelia said. She wouldn't have run off with Buffy otherwise.

"Hopefully not to this extent," Giles said, emerging from his office holding a newspaper, a grey folder, and a pile of large books reaching almost to his chin.

Cordelia stood up, going to help Giles. "How many deaths?"

There must have been at least one, for the paper to bother reporting the incident.

"One."

Then it must have been gruesome. A routine killing would only have got a two line obituary, too short to tell Giles anything useful.

"Eaten?" Cordelia guessed, remembering Flutie.

"Human teeth marks are quite distinctive."

Cordelia plucked the paper and the folder from Giles's fingers. "Which page?"

"Twenty-three," Giles said, then glanced pointedly at the top book.

Cordelia took two books off the pile, lightening Giles's load, then sat down and opened the paper. 'Last night Mr Charles Holt, 46, had an unexpected surprise when …'

"The folder and today's paper were left in my office," Giles said, putting the rest of the books down.

"By—"

"Don't," Giles interrupted. "Speculation on names or motives could fatally compromise me."

"Watcher politics," Cordelia said. It might make it harder for a corrupt watcher to take over the council, but it must also waste a lot of time.

"We may not know who provided them," Giles said, as if Cordelia had not spoken, "but my office is within the wards. Whoever they were, they were not hostile. We may reasonably assume them to be genuine."

Cordelia smiled. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them you said that."

Giles nodded, almost imperceptibly. "The paper's account is not very detailed."

Cordelia nodded. Most of the article was about Charles; the corpse he'd found in his drive only got one paragraph, and that all false. Supposedly the victim had been mutilated by stray dogs after being killed by a gang on PCP, but Sunnydale had neither stray dogs nor human gangs, thanks to the hellmouth.

However, there were probably dozens of demons that liked to leave half-eaten corpses on people's drives. Identifying the precise culprit from the newspaper story alone would be impossible.

Cordelia swallowed the last bite of toast, then opened the folder, and gagged.

She had not expected photos.

"Perhaps you should—" Giles began, his voice soft and tender.

"No," she said. "I've seen worse."

But not when she'd just eaten. There were some sights that did not go well with food, especially not when they were in full colour. Admitting that would make her look weak though, which was not desirable.

Giles looked thoughtfully at Cordelia, then pulled a typewritten report out of the folder, placing it on top of the photos. "The pattern of consumption is characteristic of hyenas, but the only teeth marks are human. Close examination shows the bites came from three different people—"

"And, judging by their jaw size, two of them were female," Cordelia said, summarising the report's next paragraph, "so there's a fifty percent chance Buffy and Willow didn't do this."

Giles hesitated. "We can hope—"

"But you suspect something."

"The writer of that report seems to have," Giles said. "They appear to have deliberately turned a blind eye to every line of evidence that might have identified a culprit. That would be extremely difficult to do if Buffy was guilty, her slayer strength would leave evidence even the most cursory examination could not overlook, but the same is not true of Willow."

"So they didn't want to know," Cordelia said, carefully ignoring the other possibility. "That doesn't change the odds."

Not for the worse, anyway. Willow and Buffy had started the night together; they had probably finished it together too. Margo knew that though, and yet still seemed to suspect Willow. Did she know something relevant Cordelia didn't, or was she playing a deeper game?

Either way, Margo would not have bothered explaining herself to Giles. Cordelia would have to wait until the next time she met the Bodsworths.

"Perhaps," Giles said, nudging his glasses. "However, if Buffy, and Willow, did not … partake, it was only because they were not there."

"Next time, they will?" Cordelia suggested, confident of the answer.

Giles nodded. "And Buffy was not born here. She is not so inured to horror as the others, and she is the slayer."

"Margo—"

"Is not entirely wrong," Giles said, frowning slightly. "If Buffy could fight against the possession, I'd have no doubts, but she cannot. When it is over, she will remember all she had done, and she will remember doing it willingly."

"But she didn't. She—"

"That is what it will feel like," he said. "She will remember how effortlessly the hyenas took her over, and wonder if it was because some part of her wanted them to."

"She'll have us to support her," Cordelia said. Giles might have had to cope with those memories alone, recovering from his Ripper days, but Buffy would not.

"They both will," he said, "and I have considerable training in this field. If Buffy were not the slayer, that would be enough. However, she is. She has been chosen to protect the innocent. Slaughtering them instead is an insult to the source of her power."

"So it kills the hyena spirits," Cordelia said, going with the most likely result. "Where's the problem."

Giles sighed. "Buffy's mind might be ripped asunder by the contending powers. It might not, but the precedents are not good."

Giles paused, and tapped one of the books. "The histories of slayers who have killed innocents are uniformly tragic. Even when the killing was accidental the slayers … embraced death, one way or another. When it was not an accident …"

"She's possessed," Cordelia reminded Giles, "She—"

"There are precedents for that too," Giles said sadly. "Mature slayers, inured to horror by long experience, have survived possession with only moderate lasting psychological trauma. Novice slayers have seldom been so lucky."

And Buffy had only been slaying a year.

Giles tapped another of the books. "I have found a spell which should work, but it can only be cast after sunset. There may be—"

"Buffy!" Joyce said, running into the library. "Buffy?" she repeated, peering frantically into every corner, the hope draining from her face.

"Can I help you, madam?" Giles said, reverting to his harmless librarian act.

"Have you seen Buffy, Cordelia?" Joyce asked, her voice tinged with fear. "They said she'd be in here."

"Sit down," Cordelia said gently, pulling out a chair. "I'm sure Buffy's OK."

And if Joyce went looking for her, she might find her.

"You are Buffy's mother?" Giles said, feigning ignorance. "Is she in trouble?"

"She's missing," Joyce said, slumping down next to Cordelia.

"Oh, dear," Giles said, overacting slightly. "She didn't seem like the type."

"She hasn't run away," Joyce said. "She was out last night."

"Last night?" Giles echoed. "I don't quite follow."

Cordelia frowned. He was definitely overdoing his act now. Even Joyce might notice.

Joyce stared at Giles. "You don't know what happened last night?"

"I understand there was a minor geological incident," Giles said. "How would that affect Buffy?"

"Minor?" Joyce gasped. "You've got a gym full of—"

"I said it wasn't a major earthquake," Cordelia lied, scowling at Giles. "I didn't say it wasn't major. People have died."

"Oh," Giles said, showing no emotion. "Would a cup of tea help?"

"No," Joyce said sharply. "I need to find Buffy. She was out there, and she hasn't come home."

"We'll help you find her," Cordelia said, smiling broadly. "Let's think where she might have gone."

Joyce couldn't be kept in the library much longer, Giles had things to do, but ten minutes should be enough time to decide how to keep Joyce and Buffy apart.

"I don't know," Joyce said, looking hopefully at Cordelia. "She could be anywhere."

Behind Joyce, Giles glanced sideways at the pile of books.

Cordelia winced.

Joyce hadn't noticed the books yet, she was too distressed, but she would if she stayed in the library much longer, and then she would get suspicious.

That was why Giles was overacting. He couldn't just take the books away, that would only draw attention to them, so he was trying to drive Joyce away without actually alienating her. If Cordelia hadn't interfered Joyce would have left the library by now, convinced Giles was completely useless, and perfectly safe for Buffy to spend time with.

"Surely the police can help," Giles said, distracting Joyce from Cordelia.

Joyce laughed bitterly. "They said I have to wait seven days before I can report her missing."

"That's not right," Giles said. "I shall write a most strongly worded letter of complaint to the paper."

Cordelia smiled. Joyce would be too focused on Giles now to notice the books for at least a minute, which would give Cordelia the time she needed to think.

It would be much easier to keep Joyce safe if they knew where Buffy was, but Cordelia didn't. Neither did Giles, or Buffy would be in the library cage by now.

Buffy shouldn't actually think she was a hyena, so she wouldn't be where a real hyena would; sleeping under some bushes in a park. She would be in the kind of place she normally went, making it harder to keep Joyce away from her.

Then Cordelia smiled. Hyenas were not peaceful creatures. Buffy wouldn't be doing anything relaxing, like shopping or ice-skating. She'd be looking for excitement, and to Buffy that meant graveyards and sewers, not the kind of place Joyce would expect to find her daughter.

Of course, it also meant Willow was probably trying to fight demons hand-to-hand too, but that wasn't a real problem. Buffy wouldn't let her pack-mate get killed, and any minor injuries Willow suffered would be no more than she deserved for seducing Xander.

"Buffy might have slept over with Willow," Cordelia said, interrupting Giles.

For a moment Joyce grinned broadly, her face filling with new hope, then she frowned. "But she hasn't rung."

"Willow was probably online all night," Cordelia began. "She—"

"Cordelia," her dad said, walking into the library. "You got out."

Cordelia looked at him, torn. She should be glad to see him, and she was, mostly, but he had been hiding her mom's condition from her. If only she'd known the full truth earlier she would have been able to save her mom, and her home. She could have just told Giles what her mom thought he'd seen, then waited for him to solve the problem.

Giles was smart, he would only have needed a few weeks warning, but her dad had fed her half-truths.

Now her mom was dead, and all her memories of her dad sullied by nagging doubts. What other secrets was he hiding? Why hadn't he trusted her? How much did he really know?

Until now she'd had no reason to suspect him, but he'd had the entire back of her house rebuilt, from the foundations up, and the bones had not been buried deep. Maybe he hadn't seen anything during the construction, and maybe he had.

And was it really just random chance that he'd been the first to find her uncle's body?

Cordelia thought so, she hoped so, but she could no longer be sure.

"Would you be Cordelia's father?" Giles said, breaking the silence.

Her dad nodded. "You're the school librarians?"

"No," Joyce said. "He is. I'm looking for my daughter. Have you seen her? She's—"

"At my age all pretty girls look the same," Cordelia's dad said gently, "Mrs … Summers, isn't it? You own that new gallery."

Cordelia looked at her dad a moment longer, then decided to let Giles in on her suspicions. He'd be able to probe her dad's background without him noticing and when he found nothing then she'd be able to fully trust her dad again.

"I got out," Cordelia said. "My mom didn't. I tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn't."

Joyce stared at Cordelia, open mouthed.

"She's dead?" her dead said quietly. "I had hoped she might be here — and don't blame yourself, Cordelia. She had problems."

Giles looked at him, a shade too casually. It was a minuscule error, unnoticeable if you hadn't spent many months with Giles, but to Cordelia it was a clear sign that he had noticed something wrong with her dad's last reply, which was more than Cordelia herself had.

"You didn't say your mom was dead," Joyce said. "You—"

"I couldn't help her," Cordelia said, taking the moral high ground. "I can help you."

Besides, if Cordelia spent too long thinking about her mom she'd start crying, and the vultures would descend.

"You're—" Joyce began then, abandoning words, leaned over and hugged Cordelia.

Cordelia's dad smiled, no doubt noting Joyce's moment of weakness. He regularly read the obituary columns, looking for people who were both wealthy and vulnerable; he wouldn't overlook the business opportunity revealed by Joyce's poor self-control. He'd probably turn up at her gallery in a few days, with some friendly advice.

"My commiserations on your wife," Giles said. "You must have loved her very much."

Cordelia's dad turned to face Giles, his gaze lingering on the books for exactly the right length of time, neither long enough to appear interested nor short enough to indicate deliberate avoidance. "Must?"

"She chose to stay in a collapsing building," Giles said, taking his glasses off and looking closely at the lenses. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that would seem to indicate a not inconsiderable degree of mental dysfunction, and yet—"

"She was happy at home," Cordelia's dad said.

"And she wasn't normally that bad," Cordelia said, her voice slightly muffled by Joyce's embrace. "Last night was the first time I heard about the thing she saw in the wine cellar."

"That must have been quite distressing," Giles said. "You need a nice cup of tea."

"She needs her father," Cordelia's dad said, staring scornfully at Giles, which was a big mistake.

Giles began playing with his glasses, apparently absent mindedly. "Oh, of course, goes without saying. Like mother, like daughter, eh?"

Joyce frowned, seemingly confused, though Cordelia wasn't sure why. There had been nothing cryptic about Giles's last comment.

"Indeed," Cordelia's dad said, a small twitch at the back of his neck the only sign of tension. "H—"

"Still, needs must, and nurses can't be cheap," Giles said, which was a point Cordelia hadn't considered.

If, as Cordelia's dad had led her to believe, her mom had only suffered from bouts of nerves, nurses would not have been necessary, but her father had not told the whole truth. He had fooled her, as good as lied to her, and that was never acceptable.

"We did not have any nurses," Cordelia said, looking accusingly at her dad. "We should have. Mom insisted nothing was happening even after her dressing table fell through the ceiling. She would have done the same if a short-circuit had set the house on fire, or if a killer had broken in. She should not have been left alone."

Unfortunately, that wasn't Cordelia's only problem with her dad's behaviour, but it was the only one she could talk about with mentioning weird stuff.

"Where were you last night?" Joyce said, looking sharply at Cordelia's dad, then hesitated. "A dressing table? You were still in your house after things had started falling through the ceiling?"

"I was in the room when it fell," Cordelia said, shrugging. "I had to pull my mom out of the way. Dad was at a party, with his business colleagues."

Joyce jumped to her feet, her face alight with anger. "You were out drinking," she said, her voice quickly rising to a disbelieving shriek. "You left your sick wife alone to go drinking?"

Cordelia's dad smiled disarmingly. "It is not every day I get an invitation from the Mayor."

That might be a good enough excuse for being away last night, when Cordelia's mom had needed him, and it was conceivable that Cordelia's mom had been less disturbed all the other times, when her dad hadn't had that excuse to attend his colleagues' parties, but it didn't explain why he'd never hired a professional to look after his wife.

On the other hand, Cordelia's dad had often insisted on working from home, despite the business it lost him, because he'd wanted to stay close to his wife. Whatever his motives really were, they weren't as simple as greed alone.

"It is not every day your wife dies," Joyce snapped, unreasonably.

"I know you're upset about your daughter," Cordelia's dad said, his voice tinged with false sympathy, "but—"

"You aren't," Joyce said. "You're acting like she only grazed her knee."

Cordelia hid a smile. Joyce didn't really care much about her, she was just using her dad as a punching bag to relieve her frustrations over Buffy being missing, but the pretence still felt nice, and there was a small chance Joyce would harry him into a slip.

"Cordelia is old enough not to need her hand holding," her dad said.

Giles nodded. "She needs that about as much as she needs a thousand dollar dress."

Joyce stared at the two men, a hint of confusion softening her glare.

Cordelia's dad twitched. "What would you know?"

Giles looked meaningfully round the shelves, all crammed with books. "Many things."

"About children?" Cordelia's dad said, almost smugly.

"Let me see," Giles said, walking over to the nearest bookcase, "Famous frauds, Chinese history, local history, the Aztec religion, old bones …"

"But not children," Cordelia's dad said, looking warily at Giles. "Cordelia, do you need anything?"

"Apart from my mom?" Cordelia said, looking at her dad's pocket.

He silently pulled out his platinum credit card.

"I'll make my own arrangements for tonight," Cordelia said, taking the card, "since I don't need my hand holding."

Her dad nodded, then briskly walked out of the library.

"You can stay with me," Joyce said. "He, um—"

"Thanks," Cordelia said, "but with Buffy missing …."

Without Buffy there, her house would be no safer than any other, and Joyce would be too watchful.

"Quite," Giles said. "Mustn't rub salt in, but I'm sure you'll find her soon."

"Of course she will," Cordelia said, smiling brightly, "with our help. I'll take Joyce to Willow's."

Which would get Joyce out of the library; it would be easy enough to double back afterwards to learn the rest of Giles's plans for the hyenas.

"I will have words with the police," Giles said, "let them know this is not some student jape."

"Don't you have any other relatives?" Joyce asked uncertainly.

"An aunt," Cordelia said, moving to stand next to Joyce. "She lives in Arkham, Massachusetts."

Joyce continued talking, but Cordelia ignored her, instead gently ushering her out of the library.

* * *

"Margo brought this?" Cordelia said, tapping one of the bookcases. 

Xander nodded. "First thing she did, once I let her in."

"It's not bad," Cordelia conceded, looking round the room. At least it wasn't cheap self-assembly furniture, little better than cardboard; it was all hardcarved wood and real leather, heirloom quality. Margo must have bought out an antiques shop, without consulting Cordelia.

"You don't like it?" Xander said, sitting straighter on the sofa. "I—"

"I would have liked a choice," Cordelia said. "Our agreement with her says we always get a choice. You should have insisted—"

"I can't remember all those sub-clauses," Xander said.

Cordelia scowled at him. "You have to. We need the protection."

"You can take care of all that," Xander said, shrugging. "You enjoy intrigue."

"No, I don't," Cordelia said firmly. Intrigue was all about tricking people but she was honest. She didn't lie or trick people; she told them the truth, and if she wanted someone to do something she gave them clear instructions. Intrigue was not her style; she only did it when she really had to.

Xander looked at her, then smiled. "If I didn't know better—"

"I don't," Cordelia repeated.

Xander sighed. "I was with you yesterday. You were so pleased you'd tricked Beedon—"

"I enjoy winning," Cordelia conceded. "Everyone does, but I don't like scheming. Tricking people is dishonest."

"That why you didn't tell us the truth?" Xander asked, looking skeptical.

"I couldn't," Cordelia said. It would have meant losing her best chance for revenge on Willow and Xander. "You and Willow have been keeping secrets too, and Willow has tried to trick Giles into telling her stuff."

"Willow likes puzzles," Xander said. "Sometimes, she—"

Mid-sentence, he stopped, frowned thoughtfully for a few moments, then looked directly at Cordelia. "I told Giles everything."

"At once?" she said, playing for time. If Xander had been talking to Giles behind Willow's back, that was yet another layer of deception. Keeping straight who knew what about whom wasn't a major problem, not for someone of her abilities, but it was a problem she did not need.

"A week later," Xander admitted. "Willow's my friend, but Giles needed to know."

"But he didn't think the rest of us did," Cordelia said, seeing an opening.

"He said you and Buffy wouldn't be able to act naturally."

Cordelia scowled. Buffy wouldn't have been able to, but Giles must have known she already knew. Not telling her did make some sense, since he had known she was keeping secrets from him, but there had been no need to insult her like that.

Xander smiled. "I trusted Giles. Why d—"

"Not because I enjoyed tricking him," Cordelia said, rebutting the suggestion Xander was obviously leading up to, then smiled. "You told Giles. Where did that get you?"

"It—" Xander began.

"Nowhere," Cordelia said dismissively. "You got stuck keeping Giles's secrets from us as well as Willlow's."

"And now I know yours," Xander said, then sighed. "We're spending more time hiding stuff from each other than fighting vampires, and half the people we're hiding stuff from are only pretending they don't know. It's not right. We should just tell everyone everything."

"I wish we could," Cordelia said, her life would be so much simpler if she was the only one with a secret, "but I can't tell anyone why I came back, and we've both made unbreakable promises to Margo."

Still, revealing one or two secrets might make life easier, and give her more time to plan revenge.

Xander slowly nodded, then frowned. "If you don't like it, why are you so good at it?"

Because she had listened to her dad boasting about his convoluted deals, all the different ways he'd tricked extra money out of his partners and clients. She'd listened, and never once thought about what that meant for her, never considered that he might trick her too.

"Cordelia?"

She looked at Xander, thought briefly, then shrugged. His sympathy would be useful, and he wouldn't abuse the information. "I learned from my dad."

Xander looked at her, waiting.

"He found me in the library earlier. Giles—" Cordelia swallowed nervously, then sat down opposite Xander. "—Giles doesn't like him. He thinks he might be … compromised."

"Why?" Xander said, leaning forwards.

"He noticed the books."

"Weird books?"

Cordelia nodded. "Giles had them out."

"For the play?" Xander suggested hopefully.

"He knows me too well for that, and it wasn't just the books. He isn't in denial."

"Like us?" Xander said, less hopefully.

"He knew my mom was … unwell, but he left her alone. When I told him she was dead he told me not to blame myself."

"He's right," Xander said. "You shouldn't."

"I should have asked the Maiden to help her," Cordelia said firmly, then returned to the subject. "He was too smooth. He must have already known."

And yet he'd pretended not to. There were several reasons he might have done that, all of them bad.

"Then why—" Xander blinked. "Oh."

"Giles doesn't think he's evil evil; he just helps the people who are."

"He's a minion?"

"No," Cordelia said. "He doesn't help them with the evil; he helps them with their money, knowing that they're evil."

He might not know the details, Giles had said most collaborators didn't, but that still made him complicit.

"Maybe he's being blackmailed," Xander suggested, rather optimistically.

"That wouldn't work for long," Cordelia said patiently. "He'd look for a way out, but he's acting the way he always did."

So far, anyway. If her dad's friends ever decided they wanted her dead then everything would change, one way or another. Then she'd find out what his priorities really were. Would he do what a father should, or would he abandon her, the way she had abandoned her own mom?

"Families," Xander said softly, gently resting his hand on hers.

Cordelia nodded. Xander had his own family problems; he understood.

She didn't need his sympathy, of course, but it was good to have someone who would listen patiently when she let off steam. Normally, she would have used her mom, but she couldn't

"Cordy," Xander began, then hesitated, clearly uncertain what to say next.

He needn't have worried. One look at him, perching on the edge of the sofa, knees brushing against hers, leaning closer, his concern-filled eyes only inches away, was enough to—

Cordelia jumped to her feet, pushing the memories back.

Xander looked up at her, initial puzzlement swiftly giving way to a faintly amused smile. "Remembered something?"

"Margo," Cordelia said, after a moment's thought. "Weren't we supposed to be meeting her?"

"She had to go," Xander said, pointing at the kitchen door. "Said she'd been summoned to an urgent meeting."

"You think that means five minutes," Cordelia said, smiling, "or five hours?"

"I hope five minutes," Xander said. "There's no food in the kitchen."

Cordelia nodded. No food didn't matter, but there was nothing to do other than talk to Xander. Doing that for five hours would bring back too many memories.

Xander looked uncertainly at Cordelia. "So, do you like the furniture?"

"It's high quality," Cordelia said, lightly stroking the solid oak wardrobe. "Let's get it upstairs."

That should be a safe way of passing time.

* * *

"Stop," Cordelia said. "You're not going straight." 

And scraping the bed along the wall would damage both.

"It's heavy," Xander said. "And you aren't helping."

"I'm keeping it straight," Cordelia pointed out. Every time Xander started pushing the bed at an angle she put him right.

"You can do that from down here," Xander said. "I —"

"We tried that with the wardrobe," Cordelia said. "We kept bumping elbows."

And standing next to Xander, his bare arms brushing against her, his t-shirt stretched tight over straining musc—

But she shouldn't be thinking like that. It didn't matter how good he looked, straining to push the bed; he had betrayed her.

Still, he did look good, surprisingly good for someone so unathletic. Until he met Buffy, the nearest he'd come to exercise was skateboarding, but now he looked nearly as … fit as when he'd joined the swim team, a year from now.

Cordelia frowned, thinking. It had to be because of Ngralth's death throes, when knowing who she was had been her only protection against the storm. The magic had preserved her body just how she remembered it being, but her memories had been rose-tinted, and her body had shifted slightly to conform. The same would have happened with Xander, body as well as face. Just as with her, the improvements would only be small, he might not even have noticed, but they'd be enough to explain why he looked so good so soon.

Which was the real reason why she'd insisted on standing at the opposite end of the bed. It made it easier for her to ignore the great view, and less likely that Xander would notice if she looked at him inappropriately.

"Cordy?" he said. "You listening?"

"Just thinking," she said casually. "Wilfred said Margo was going to tell you something."

Xander looked curiously at her. "She wanted to tell me about I can curse young you. She had this 'short' book she was going to talk through with me. Why?"

Cordelia shrugged. "We could have been talking about that."

Xander smiled. "It's nearly two hundred pages, with footnotes, and appendices."

She nodded. Margo's short list of magic words for the apartment had run to twenty pages; she didn't seem—

"Have you read her list?" Cordelia said quickly. "Tell me you've read her list."

"The commands?" Xander said. "It's too early for Latin."

"So," Cordelia said slowly, "you wouldn't know if one of the commands in the list might just possibly be, oh, I don't know—"

"Fly?" he suggested, smiling wryly.

"Let's go and look." There shouldn't be a command for flight in that list, Margo had said she was only doing the minimum necessary to make the apartment secure, which didn't include flying beds, but she wanted them to learn Latin so she would probably have put a lot of extra commands in to encourage that.

"I can't go," Xander said. "I can't let go of the bed. Can you squeeze past?"

Cordelia eyed the gap, three inches on each side, much too narrow. Climbing over the bed would mean climbing over Xander, never a good idea. "No. We closer to the top or the bottom?"

"Halfway."

"We'll go up then, and check the list afterwards. On three?"

Xander nodded.

"One. Two. Three."

The bed slid upwards.

* * *

"My apologies for the delay," Margo said forty minutes later, stepping into the apartment. "Some people seem utterly unable to understand the concept of brevity." 

"A productive meeting?" Cordelia said, frowning. Margo was leaning on a cane, her face was gaunt, and her hair had grown thin; she seemed to have aged thirty years overnight. Xander had said she looked bad, but not this bad.

"The first half hour was, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said, glancing round. "I trust you had no trouble moving the furniture."

"Volita," Xander said, carefully not pointing at anything. "Easy."

"Why haven't you healed yourself?" Cordelia asked. "You look terrible."

"I have," Margo said. "I am well enough to do what I must tonight. To heal myself further would be vanity, which would imperil my mission."

"Just well enough?" Cordelia said warily. What would happen if they met another major demon?

"I have made reasonable allowances for the unexpected," Margo said. "I understand the meaning of prudence, unlike certain people."

"Who?" Cordelia said. Margo had though the exploding water pistols were safe; if she considered something imprudent there was a good chance sensible people would call it apocalyptic. Either that, or she was making a lot of fuss about some minor breach of tradition.

Xander sighed.

"You do have some influence with Buffy," Margo said after a moment. "What do you know of the Morrigan?"

"She is a god," Cordelia said. "She attacked your headquarters last night."

"She is the Celtic goddess of battle and fertility," Margo said, then looked at Xander. "Sex and violence, in modern parlance. She has an obvious interest in the slayer."

Xander frowned. "Why. Buffy kills vampires; she doesn't, um—"

"You've not met Faith yet," Cordelia said, smiling, and she hadn't told him about Angel either.

"That the slayer is the world's greatest warrior is enough," Margo said, with a warning glance at Cordelia. "She wishes to make the slayer her proxy."

"And she's a evil goddess," Xander said.

"Not evil," Margo said. "Amoral. It would mean every future slayer serving her ends, which would not always be to humanity's benefit."

"And someone's trying to make this happen," Cordelia guessed. "Who?"

"That is not their intent," Margo said, "but it would be one result of their plan. They are unwitting pawns of the Morrigan, who have escaped our leash during the recent turmoil, and the spell they intend to have cast bait, surrounded by many traps, one of which would bind future slayers to the Morrigan's service if triggered. It is a spell the board have long laboured to make safe, labours that are now nearing completion, but we are not yet ready. To have it cast now, with all the disastrous consequences that would follow, when we are only decades, maybe less, from being to do so in complete safety, would be most annoying."

Xander smiled. "Voices might be raised."

"Our reaction would be slightly stronger than that, Mr Alexander," Margo said, smiling faintly. "The closest precedent would be the Shadowmen, and those responsible for that incident are still doing penance for their crimes, millennia after their deaths. Hopefully though, such measures will not be necessary."

"Have you told these people what will happen?" Cordelia asked. "And a name would help."

"They are fanatics, impervious to reason," Margo said, then scowled. "As for their name, you may have heard that my colleagues were not entirely pleased with some of my decisions last night. Some of them even had the temerity to accuse me of being a security risk. To mollify these malcontents I agreed to certain minor restrictions, including one on what I can say to non-board members."

"So you can't tell us anything useful," Cordelia summed up. The board had managed to sabotage their own agent.

"You need to learn greater patience, Mistress Cordelia, If I had nothing useful to tell you I would have told you nothing. We expect an emissary from this group to arrive in Sunnydale within the next few months, once they've recruited a sufficiently powerful and arrogant witch. They will need to obtain the slayer's consent, which is where the two of you should prove useful. While Buffy might well refuse to heed Mr Giles's advice if you did not concur, if all three of you should tell her not to consent we can be all but certain Buffy will follow your advice. Do you have any more questions, or would you like to collect my bequest to you?"

"We're in your will?" Cordelia said, clueing Xander in. She'd need to remember to watch out for this emissary, but right now Margo mattered more.

"I would not be so indiscreet as to put your names in writing," Margo said, then pointed at the kitchen door. "If you would step into my parlour?"

Xander pushed the door open and stepped into the kitchen, then turned round, looking confused.

"Perhaps some training in mental discipline would be beneficial, Mr Alexander," Margo said. "Your visualisation of my parlour was clearly deficient."

"I thought you'd—" Xander began.

"It's our apartment," Cordelia said. "Only we can control our door," assuming Margo had taken the same safety precautions as with the rest of the spells she had cast for them.

Margo nodded, confirming Cordelia's guess. "You may find it helpful to think of these doors as much like secure phones. Anyone may call you, if they have your number, and you haven't blocked them, but only you can call out."

"Oh," Xander said, smiling, then turned back to face the door.

"You'll need to close it first," Margo said, a hint of warm laughter in her voice.

Xander nodded, staring intently at the door.

* * *

Two minutes and five failed attempts later Xander stepped into Margo's parlour. 

"—deeper magic than mine," Margo said as she followed him. "I was content to stick within the guidelines given to me, thinking I would have ample time to study the matter later."

"So no experiments?" Cordelia said, looking pointedly at Xander as she closed the door behind her. He'd been asking what would have if they tried opening a door to Hawaii, a tempting idea, but if Margo didn't know what would happen Cordelia did not want to risk it.

"No reckless experiments," Margo said, opening the door again. "I'm fairly confident the risk of catastrophic outcomes would be acceptably small, and there were some intriguing hints in Foxton's memoirs."

"What's the worst—" Xander said, following Margo through the door. "What? Where?"

Cordelia hesitated briefly, wondering what the surprise was this time, then shrugged and followed Xander through.

"My private library," Margo said as Cordelia entered "Do you like the view?"

"Nice," Cordelia said, staring out of the window. It was night outside, but it was not dark. A gaudy spiral of light sprawled across the sky, brighter than the moon, its silvery glow illuminating a desolate plain. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Margo said. "I'm not even sure if we're in the same dimension as our Earth, but this world is the headquarters of the board, inherited from our predecessors. Our library is a continent about five thousand miles that way, and—"

"An entire continent?" Cordelia said, raising one eyebrow. Margo was clearly trying to impress them with the power of the board, and she'd succeeded, but she'd also raised more questions. If the board could operate on this scale there must be more to them than Giles dreamt, more even than Margo had admitted. What did they want for the world? Why had they come out here? Were they really just a bunch of old men and women, or was there something greater behind them? And, most importantly, why did Margo want Cordelia and Xander to know?

Margo nodded. "Only a small continent."

"Any life out there?" Xander said, looking speculatively at the horizon.

"There used to be," Margo said, "until the planet's orbit was somehow destabilised. Slowly it drifted away from its parent star, out into the endless dark. The oceans froze solid, the atmosphere followed suit, and all life perished. How this was done, we do not know, but we do know that there are ten thousand ruined worlds such as this for every one that still bears life. We're also fairly confident that all those worlds are the handiwork of Omega, which is one reason we are based out here."

"So you won't forget," Cordelia said, frowning. Taking revenge on Omega for her mom's death might be a little harder than she'd realised.

"You mean there's no air out there?" Xander said, tapping the window. "Willow would love this."

"I had hoped she would be here too," Margo said, "but she rejected my offer. Would you like to see the armoury first?"

Xander nodded, smiling. "You giving us magic weapons?"

"I suspect Mr Giles might just possibly find it a little suspicious if the two of you turned up wielding flame-wreathed blades, Mr Alexander," Margo said, "and such weapons are rare enough to attract rather more hostile attention than you might consider desirable. No, I will provide you with superficially unremarkable weapons of the highest quality, as well as training equipment."

"Don't you have any inconspicuous magical weapons?" Xander asked as Margo opened the door.

Margo smiled. "I do have some swords that can slice through bone as easily as butter – lovely weapons, if you don't mind accidentally running a sword through your thigh every time you try to sheath the dratted thing."

* * *

"And this is my library," Margo said, unnecessarily. With book-filled shelves ten feet high, and stretching as far as Cordelia could see, there wasn't anything else it could have been. 

"You're giving us books?" Xander said. "That all?"

"Mr Alexander," Margo said. "Knowledge is not the greatest gift, but it is the greatest I can give."

"You've got a roomful of swords," Cordelia reminded him.

He smiled. "We can practice together."

"Something to look forward to," Cordelia said, smiling. A chance to beat Xander up without repercussions wasn't the kind of revenge she'd wanted, but it did have some attractions. "But we need the books to rescue Harmony."

"Indeed, Mistress Cordelia," Margo said. "However, you will need to promise me not to let any of these books out of your flat."

Cordelia nodded. "We don't want Giles—"

"Mr Giles can see these books, provided you don't reveal your source," Margo said. "I'm more concerned about this."

She pulled a book off the nearest shelf, then opened it

"A commentary on Chatwin's guide to the Emerald Tablet," Cordelia read, then looked quizzically at Margo, waiting for an explanation.

Margo closed the book, then reopened it.

"An introduction to Etruscan grammar," Xander read. "It's changed."

Margo nodded. "This index can become any book I wish within range. It lacks the serendipity of browsing, but it is a great time saver. Unfortunately, we are fairly sure some of our enemies have similar indices."

"And Sunnydale might be in range," Cordelia concluded.

"Your flat is warded against such magic," Margo said, "but if our enemies were to breach our security because you had negligently permitted these books outside the wards then my colleagues would not be amused."

Xander smiled. "You mean they might chain our ghosts up in their dungeons."

"That would be an option, Mr Alexander," Margo agreed, "though I cannot guarantee they would be so lenient. Some of my colleagues have a slightly old-fashioned notion of justice."

"I promise I'll not let any of your books outside the apartment," Cordelia quickly said, echoed by Xander.

"These are the books you'll need," Margo said, pulling out a list, then pointed down the first aisle. "There's a ladder and cart over there. Now, if you'll excuse me, there are arrangements I need to make for my demise."

* * *

"Faster," Xander said, ten minutes later. "Giles is sure this will work?" 

"I can't go any faster without leaving the cart behind," Cordelia said, scowling as she pushed the ladder along the shelves. "He's certain. The hyena spirits will get sucked into the soulstorm, and Buffy and Willow will go back to normal."

"Good," Xander said, climbing down the ladder. "I'll push. You can get the books."

"No," she said firmly. "The books are too heavy for me," and while she didn't think Xander would try looking up her skirt there was no need to tempt him.

He groaned. "This is going to take ages."

"In a hurry to start reading them?" she teased.

"To get out of here," Xander corrected, "before she thinks of something else for us to do. Um, you don't think she's listening, do you?"

"I don't think she'll care," Cordelia said. "She's only got a few hours left."

"We never did find a way round that," he said. "Stop here."

"Giles thought Willow's ideas were too risky, and we got distracted."

"I suppose last night would count as a distraction," he said, pulling a book off the shelf. "Think I can get an extension on my homework?"

"Only if they believed you," Cordelia said, then frowned. "I haven't done mine yet."

"Cordy, your house was eaten by a giant evil hand. They'll give you an extension."

"As long as I don't tell them about the evil giant hand part."

"Tell them that," Xander said, smiling, "and you'll never have to do homework again."

"Tempting, but I don't think I'd look good in a straitjacket."

Xander paused halfway down the ladder and looked at her. "You could look good in anything."

"Anything?" Cordelia challenged, smiling back. "Even the traditional slayer's costume?"

"Maybe not that," Xander conceded, then his smile faded. "Um, about last night?"

"Yes?"

"You do know … if you need anything …"

"I know."

* * *

"There he is," Buffy shouted. 

Cordelia looked up from her pizza and groaned. She couldn't have fought Buffy even before the hyenas. She'd just have to hope Buffy was feeling calm.

"What's Willow wearing?" Xander asked, his eyes widening.

"Looks like a miniskirt," Cordelia said dryly. It seemed getting in touch with her animal instincts had improved Willow's fashion sense. Her legs needed shaving and her top was the wrong colour but overall she looked pretty good.

The three jocks sitting two tables over elbowed each other and grinned.

Standing in the doorway, Willow looked warily round the room then whispered something to Buffy, who smiled and clapped her on the back, pushing her forwards. "Go, get him."

"The hyenas?" Xander guessed, his eyes locked on Willow as she strutted towards him. "But why?"

Cordelia shrugged. "You're male, and she has needs."

Hopefully Xander would be too distracted to ask why Willow hadn't picked anyone else. If he realised it meant she actually did like him then they might start dating, which would bring back too many bad memories and make it harder for her to get revenge. Still, there were opportunities here as well as risks. If she could get Xander to remember the hyenas every time he noticed Willow's looks they'd never date, leaving her forever frustrated — not much of a revenge, but it would be a start.

Willow snatched up a bit of meat from Cordelia's pizza, then sat down next to Xander and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "What are you doing with her."

"Having lunch," Xander said, sidling away from Willow.

She shuffled closer, one hand slipping below the table.

"Willow!" Xander shouted, leaping to his feet, then started breathing deeply, an obvious effort to calm himself. "Not in public."

She eyed his groin, licking her lips. "When."

"Midnight," Xander said, backing further away. "At the funeral home. No one but us would dare go there."

Willow stuck a finger in her mouth, then slowly pulled it out, a move which would have been more impressive if she'd been wearing lipstick. "I think me and Buffy can find some way to amuse ourselves until then."

Buffy sat down next to Cordelia and nodded. "We had so much fun last night."

"Can we watch?" one of the jocks asked while his friends laughed.

Cordelia glared at them. "They're not feeling themselves today. If I find any of you taking advantage you'll never date in this town again."

"Ooh," the jock said mockingly, "now I'm really scared."

"You're dating Andrea, right?"

The jock nodded. "Can't keep her hands off me. I've—"

"Second base," Cordelia said, "like your friends, and you only got that far last Tuesday. Andrea doesn't do anything without my permission."

That wasn't quite true but Andrea was only dating him while she waited for Ben to notice her. If Cordelia told her to dump him, she would, and that threat should be enough to keep the others in line.

When the jock sat down, carefully not looking at his friends, Buffy laughed. "You're not man enough for me."

"Xander is," Willow said, leering at him. "He's man enough for both of us."

Xander smiled at the jocks. "What can I say?"

"You can tell me what you're doing with Cordelia," Willow snapped.

"Trouble in paradise?" one of the jocks quipped, then paled when Cordelia glared at him. "Only joking."

"I think you should go," Cordelia said, her voice cold, "before I get annoyed."

The jocks looked at her, then nonchalently ran for the doors.

"Answer me," Willow growled.

"We're having pizza," Xander said. "Want some?"

"Why Cordelia? You're not hers. You're mine."

"It's not like that," Xander quickly said. "This is lunch, not a date."

Cordelia looked at the staff, both teenagers, then pulled out a hundred dollar bill. "Feel like a break?"

The taller one looked at her, then pointed at Buffy. "She saved us from a gang of muggers last week. Take as long as you want. I'll put the closed sign up."

"—last night," Willow was saying.

"We were with Giles," Xander said.

"Why?" Willow asked. "You belong with me."

Cordelia glanced round, checking everyone else had gone, then glared at Willow. "We were fighting a giant evil hand. What were you doing?"

"Fighting demons," Buffy said. "Lots of demons."

Willow smiled. "That was fun, until we got separated."

"This was a really big hand," Cordelia said. "It destroyed my house."

"Oh," Willow said. "Why are you with Xander."

Because, when they'd eventually escaped from Margo, pizza had seemed the natural thing to do. She'd been so deep in conversation with Xander – so busy discussing the things they'd done last night, speculating on what they might do this night – that she hadn't thought twice when Xander suggested getting something to eat, hadn't considered what people might think or what advantage she might gain. She hadn't even thought about what they were eating.

She couldn't tell Willow that though. Instead, she smiled, imagining the un-possessed Willow's mortification when she remembered this conversation. "He's nervous about tonight. I'm helping him get ready."

"You do have experience," Willow said grudgingly. "OK, but you mustn't touch."

"Of course," Cordelia said, showing no reaction to the insult, then she glanced at Buffy. "You going to help her get ready."

Buffy nodded, then looked at Willow. "I can smell some meat in the kitchen. Go and get it for me."

"Will you be there tonight?" Xander asked as Willow hurdled the counter.

"You think you could handle both of us?" Buffy said, her voice low and throaty.

"We might need protection," Xander said, edging towards Cordelia. "You wouldn't want Willow's big night spoiled by a demon, would you?"

And it would make Giles's task easier if he didn't have to summon them first.

Buffy nodded, then glanced warily at the kitchen and whispered, "I'm worried about her. She's … jumpy."

"Nerves?" Cordelia silently mouthed.

"Nightmares," Buffy whispered. "I think she's having flashbacks."

"We'll talk to Giles," Xander said.

Willow sauntered out of the kitchen, gnawing at a lump of raw steak, blood dribbling down her chin. "Here" she said, tossing a second lump to Buffy.

She effortlessly caught it, tore a chunk off with her teeth, then offered it to Xander. "Hungry?"

"I already ate," Xander said, looking faintly green.

Buffy shrugged, then looked at Willow. "We're going. Enjoy your lessons."

"He will," Cordelia shouted as they vanished into the kitchens.

Xander slumped into his seat. "That—"

"Wait," she said, listening for the doors. "Now they've gone."

"There was blood, coming out of her mouth," Xander said, staring at the table.

"At least it was already dead," Cordelia said, repressing a smile. Willow would find it harder to seduce Xander now.

"What will I do tonight?" Xander said. "What if she's early. I can't … you know. It wouldn't be right. She'd—"

"Knock her out," Cordelia suggested. "Tie her up. Giles will have some rope."

"Maybe," Xander said slowly. "Are you sure Giles didn't tell you anything else about this spell?"

* * *

"Cordelia," Harmony shouted. "Here." 

Sighing, Cordelia turned round. Harmony was halfway across the shop, next to the lingerie, and her mother was with her.

"Here," Harmony repeated, pointed at the floor.

Cordelia shook her head, then pulled a top off the rail and held it up, as if examining it.

Harmony scowled then, after a quick conversation with her mother, walked over to join Cordelia.

The lights flickered.

"Why didn't you come when I called you?" Harmony asked.

"Would you have?" Cordelia replied, smiling.

"You're not me," Harmony said.

Cordelia pulled her into the formal wear section, away from eavesdroppers. "We've talked about that."

"I'd never act like you," Harmony said. "I never want to. You're not me; you're a evil twin."

"I fight evil," Cordelia snapped. "I've done nothing you wouldn't have."

"If you knew where it would get you, you wouldn't have done it."

"That would mean letting people die."

Harmony looked briefly uncertain, then shrugged. "You went wrong somewhere. I won't. I will never become like you."

"I don't want you to," Cordelia said. "What did you want?"

"I wanted to get away from her," Harmony said, glancing over at her mother. "She's acting like my mom."

"She thinks she is your mom."

"But she isn't. My mom is dead. Having her hovering around, trying to look after me …" Harmony shuddered. "It's too weird – and don't say it's my fault."

"We'll get you out of there soon," Cordelia said, carefully avoiding the issue. It was Harmony's fault, but telling her that was pointless.

One of the shop assistants tripped, spilling a carton of socks.

"That doesn't help," Harmony said. "If I'm not staying in here I can't make any plans. I'm stuck waiting for you losers."

Cordelia smiled, spotting an opening. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm not talking to … that senior librarian, Xander is useless, and no one else has any idea what I'm going through. You do, and you owe me for what you stole. When I need someone to talk to you will listen, and—"

"That's how it starts," Cordelia said. "That's how I started. Buffy's gang were the only people I could talk to about the weirdness."

"So you got sucked in," Harmony said, then frowned. "But you must already have noticed—"

"Like you have. You've got to start ignoring the weirdness." If she didn't she'd never get the peace she needed to recover after her ordeal, and Cordelia wouldn't get the proof she needed that she might be able to go back to a normal life, one day.

"Then you should get out of my life," Harmony said. "When I see you …"

The bargain racks collapsed, a faint haze rising from the debris.

"I deserve a normal life too," Cordelia said, tracking the movement. It wasn't much, just a barely perceptible wisp of mist, but it was definitely real, and it did not belong in the shop.

"You," Harmony began, then hesitated. "Aura was asking earlier what you're doing tonight."

"She can't come," Cordelia instantly said. "We're going back to the funeral home."

"You were busy with weird stuff last night too," Harmony said, "and the night before. Aura saw you."

"And she nearly got hurt both times," Cordelia said. "I know."

"Then you know what you should do," Harmony said, watching as the haze started pulling dresses of their hangers. "Make that thing stop."

Cordelia smiled, pulling out her new cell phone. "What thing?"

"That thing," Harmony said, pointing, then paused, "that I can't see."

"I think your mom's decided to shop somewhere else," Cordelia said as she dialed Giles. "This shop seems to have become suddenly unpopular."

There was no panic, no running or screaming, but all the other customers had simultaneously decided to leave.

"We'll talk later," Harmony said, glaring at Cordelia, then hurried over to join her mother.

"Giles," Cordelia said, raising the phone to her ear. "I've found a poltergeist."

* * *

"You're both certain you want to do this?" Giles said. "Once the doors open it'll be too late to change your mind." 

"We want to help Willow and Buffy," Xander said.

"And to close the deathgate before Loki comes," Cordelia added. The plan might be riskier than she had realised, but backing out now would look bad.

Xander nodded. "We'll do whatever it takes."

Giles adjusted his glasses. "You could just wait in the cafeteria, and join us when we leave here."

"That sounds like fun," Cordelia said sarcastically. "This ceremony can't be any worse than spending three hours watching the clock."

It would also give them some watcher kudos, which might be useful later, and it would keep her from being alone with Xander. She'd spent enough time with him already today.

"Margo's going to die," Xander said, "for us. We owe her." Then he smiled and twiddled his cane. "And we already got all dressed up and everything."

"Very well," Giles said. "Remember, this is a solemn occasion. When we go in, bow to the banner, then kneel. Don't fidget, or smile. Make the responses on cue, and stay silent otherwise."

"We do go to church," Cordelia said, "sometimes. We know how to act."

"Don't forget," Giles said, then turned to face the library doors. "Dame Margo, we are ready."

The doors swung open.

Margo was standing on the far side of the library, behind a table spread with a gray cloth, a banner above her head.

Giles began slowly walking forwards, Cordelia and Xander half a step behind him.

There was a broken sword and a dead baby's shoe on the table – both, according to Giles, symbolic of failed hopes.

As the three of them crossed the library threshold, the Bodsworths joined them, walking in step with Giles.

The banner was symbolic too, but it stood for good things. At the left and right two figures were embroidered, silver on gray; one, a woman holding a spear, the other, a man holding a open book – obviously a slayer and her watcher. Between them was a pentagram with one point upwards, an ancient symbol of white magic, and above it a rainbow, standing for hope renewed, and below everything there was the watcher's motto: _Cum hastra et libro, contra adventum noctis in statione solum vigilant_ — 'With spear and book, we stand alone against the fall of night,' according to Giles.

Behind her, Cordelia heard the doors swing closed.

Halfway across the library Giles and the Bodsworths bowed once to the banner, then gracefully knelt down, folding their hands behind them.

A split-second later, Cordelia and Xander copied them.

"First," Margo said, "the order of service. We shall be beginning with a brief ceremony of remembrance, followed by a short hymn and a ceremony of affirmation. Once the ceremonies are complete we shall march forth to battle beneath this hallowed banner, and all that is evil shall flee before us, or be destroyed."

It wasn't likely to flee. Demons were even more arrogant than Margo; when they saw her they would attack and be killed, hopefully without slowing Margo down too much. She had a deadline to meet.

"Mr Alexander, Mistress Cordelia, did Mr Giles gives you a clear explanation of these ceremonies and your part in them?" Margo asked. "You may nod."

Xander and Cordelia nodded. The first ceremony would just be Margo reading out the names of one hundred and one dead people, each time followed by the same response and a minutes silence.

"Now let us remember the fallen," Margo said. "Ten thousand days would not be time enough to name them all, but a few may stand for the many. Of one hundred and one lives I shall briefly speak, that we may remember them, and all those others who have fallen on our watch."

"We shall remember them," Cordelia said on cue, her voice blending into the chorus.

"Helga Gruber, slayer. For five years she served mankind. Foes uncounted she did slay, chief amongst them six lords of Abaddon. Twice she prevented apocalypse, though the world knew it not. In the year 1916 she died, protecting the dead from a ghoul pack. Her body was trampled into the Flanders mud, never to be found. Her death was the world's loss. Her life must not be forgotten."

"We shall remember her," Cordelia said, repressing a smile. There was no way Margo would have left her own slayer off the list.

For a minute there was silence, giving Cordelia time to think about more important things, such as Harmony.

She hadn't been wrong. In the original history Cordelia had easily kept the weird stuff away from her normal friends, but this time round it was harder. She'd already failed once, condemning the real Harmony to months of torment in the soulstorm. Aura might be the next to suffer simply for being Cordelia's friend.

"Kibugonai, innocent of the battle," Margo said. "A simple tribesman of New Guinea, he was eaten alive by a nibek in the year 1917. In life we failed to protect him, as was our duty. In death we shall not forget him."

"We shall remember him," Cordelia said, wondering why he was on the list. It didn't sound like he'd been anyone special.

For a minute there was silence.

Cordelia didn't need Aura, of course. She didn't need anyone or anything. Still, she would miss Aura if she had to drop her normal friends. Willow didn't understand shoes; Aura did, and she was a reminder of what Cordelia was fighting for — but were those benefits worth the risk to Aura's life?

"Reginald Hollingsworth, watcher. For two years he guided the slayer. In all her victories he played a part. In the year 1918 he was tortured for eight days, but he never betrayed her. Two days after his rescue he died of his wounds. His death was the world's loss. His life must not be forgotten."

"We shall remember him," Cordelia said.


	21. Cordelia's Ghost: Death of a Dame

"Ivana Popovich, innocent of the battle," Margo said. "A young mother, she was killed by a rusalka this March, leaving her three month old daughter orphaned, never to know a mother's love. In life we failed to protect her, as was our duty. In death we shall not forget her."

"We shall remember her," Cordelia said, though that alone would not be enough. Ivana deserved justice. She deserved to be avenged.

They all did. They should not have died young, slaughtered by creatures out of nightmare. No one should ever die like that, not ever, but too many had.

On and on the list had gone; name after name, men and women both, drawn from every nation, until it seemed it would never end, and yet for every name Margo spoke there were another thousand that remained unsaid.

Too many people had died, were still dying. Too many children had been robbed of their parents; too many parents robbed of their children. There had been too much suffering, for too long.

Remembering the fallen was the right thing to do, no one deserved to be forgotten, but remembrance alone was not enough. The dead needed to be avenged. The slaughter must be stopped.

"Jesse Eliot Sanders, innocent of the battle," Margo said, as Cordelia had been expecting. After including so many other non-combatants, leaving him off the list would have been an insult to his memory. "A cheerful youth, he was killed by a vampire this March. His friend was forced to kill the demon that wore his face. His parents can only weep, never knowing what became of their beloved son. In life we failed to protect him, as was our duty. In death we shall not forget him."

"We shall remember him," Cordelia said, glancing sideways at Xander.

He looked grim, fist clenched at his side, eyes narrowed in cold fury, but there was a suspicious glint on his cheeks.

Xander would not forget his friend. He never had, in the history that would have been. Behind his mask of laughter he had mourned Jesse, with a grief too deep for words. There had been no grave for him to visit, no acknowledgement of the death, but he had paid silent tribute to Jesse's memory every time he helped Buffy save another, and so eased his pain.

At least, that was the impression Cordelia had got, reading between the lines. He'd only ever said that he didn't want to talk about it, but she knew how people worked. Someone like Xander would never simply forget about their friends.

Knowing that others remembered Jesse too should help him. Whenever he missed his friend he'd be able to think about the monks Giles had mentioned, who chanted this list, in full, twenty-four hours a day, and know that Jesse would never be forgotten while mankind endured.

And if Margo had reached Jesse, there could not be many names left. Seeing her begin to speak, Cordelia steeled herself against the inevitable.

"Mary Josephine Chase, innocent of the battle," Margo said. "An amiable woman, noted for her charitable contributions, she was devoured by Pkhrxng Fshlfn Dhlkbch, father of the fathers of ghouls, this April, her soul utterly destroyed, her daughter left to weep over an empty grave. In life we failed to protect her, as was our duty. In death we shall not forget her."

"We shall remember her," Cordelia said fervently.

But she would not weep over the grave, if her Dad ever bothered to buy one. She would do her grieving as she had this afternoon after the visit to the mall, alone in her secret apartment, where no one could see her moments of weakness.

She would not be weak; she would be strong. Like Xander, she would not embarrass others with displays of grief, but rather focus her energies on vengeance. She would arrange the destruction of Fein Dahlk and Omega both, in her mom's name, no matter what tried to stop her. As the ghosts had shown, even death need be no obstacle to justice.

It would be horrendously difficult, of course, but while her soul endured she would never stop trying. She had failed her mom once, abandoning her to a lonely death; she would not fail her again. She would remain faithful to her mom's memory, always and forever.

"A scant few lives I have recalled this night," Margo said, "a handful of leaves picked from a forest. A thousand centuries have passed since man first fought the dark, yet still the battle rages. A myriad heroes have died in the service of mankind. Remember them."

"We shall remember them."

"A myriad hecatombs of innocents have died, killed by creatures that should not be. Remember them."

"We shall remember them."

"Tonight we march to battle, that the heroes shall not have died in vain. Tonight we march to battle, that the slaughter of the innocents shall be stemmed. Tonight we march to battle. Let the dark beware."

"Let the dark beware," Cordelia and the others thundered, their battle-cry echoing round the room.

Margo smiled. "Mister Alexander, Mistress Cordelia, I know nothing can truly compensate for your loss, but I do hope knowing they will be remembered will provide some small consolation. Naturally, any contribution you wish to add to the full account of their lives, which Mr Giles is writing, will be most warmly welcomed. The customary length is ten thousand words, but that is not a strict limit. Once these accounts are complete you, as recognised comrades-in-arms of the slayer, will be invited to witness their addition to the litany of the fallen, hellmouth permitting."

It had better. Cordelia wanted to see the monks at work, a final assurance her mom would never be forgotten, and it would do Xander good too.

It would have helped him in the original history, but Giles wasn't allowed to tell outsiders about the monks. The council was worried the demons might find out, and try to attack them, so Giles had never mentioned that part of his duties, depriving Xander of the consolation he should have had. Not letting the demons know was a good idea, but Giles should still have told Xander, if he could.

Perhaps he couldn't. He had mentioned spending some time doing penance there, probably for his Ripper period. The monks might have made him swear binding vows.

"Now," Margo said, "we will sing 'The hour is dark,' five verses only. If you are not familiar with the words, please try to join us for the chorus. On three."

Cordelia smiled. She liked singing, and she had a superb voice. This would be fun, a break from the gloom.

"The hour is dark," the watchers slowly sang, "our peril great. The demons grow strong. Evil seems our fate."

* * *

"There shall be no surrender, no retreat," Cordelia sang, perfectly in tune. "We shall never ever accept defeat. Though evil reign supreme, still would we fight, against the demon hordes, for what is right."

It wasn't a song she would have picked, especially not before her last stand — she'd have chosen something cheerful, maybe a boast about how many demons they would kill — but the chorus was good. Only the weak surrendered; she never would.

The song over, Giles and Wilfred both rubbed their ears.

As the last echoes died away Margo smiled. "You have good lungs, Mistress Cordelia. You did not need to share them with us. Perhaps, if there should be a next time, you might to care to consider singing with slightly less gusto, and slightly greater fidelity to the tune."

Cordelia scowled, but everyone else nodded. Clearly, they had no appreciation for good music.

"Now," Margo said, "for the affirmation of our oaths. Mister Alexander, Mistress Cordelia, you may now withdraw. You may stay to witness the oaths, if you wish, or you may wait outside, whichever pleases you."

Standing up, Cordelia looked at Xander, then pointedly at the library counter. The oaths might be dull, but they'd give her more insight into Giles, and leaving now would look bad.

Xander immediately nodded.

Margo coughed politely.

Cordelia and Xander bowed their heads to the banner, then walked backwards at a funereal pace, until they reached the counter, Xander only stumbling once.

"Many have fallen, heroes—" Margo held up the broken sword. "—and innocents—" She held up the baby's shoe, "—alike. Would you once more take up this sword to guard the innocent, as its bearer once did?"

"We will," the watchers chorused.

"Then swear now the great oaths, that in you the ancient promise may be renewed," Margo said. "Mr Giles?"

"I will remember the fallen," Giles said, "the heroes and the innocent alike. To their memory I dedicate my life. I will strive to live as the heroes lived. I will fight as they fought, in the service of mankind, not for wealth or glory but to protect the innocent, that their slaughter may end, nor shall I lay down my arms while life endures. Without regard to race or creed this I will do, though it cost me my life."

Xander smiled approvingly.

"As you have sworn, so may it be," Margo said, then looked at Wilfred. "Mr Bodsworth?"

"I will remember the fallen," he began.

Cordelia frowned. She'd been expecting something more ornate, with lots of grandiose phrases and long stretches of Latin. Instead, they'd been as plain in style as in meaning. There was little room for creative misinterpretation in those oaths, just a lifelong commitment to fighting evil.

There hadn't even been any details on how they'd fight evil, no promises to faithfully guide the slayer or memorise all the boring books, but then there had been hints enough that the oaths were far older than the slayer.

The precise wording obviously wasn't, the language was too modern, but the essence of them might be — a survival from ancient times, when the Old Ones were young, before the First had lured them all into evil. They must be that old, at their heart, or the blood demon could not have sworn them, before it followed its 'Great Lord' into the dark, and yet it had. It had given Giles proof of that, proof he had been unable to deny.

That explained the blood demon's actions, giving up its life to seal the portal to Knn-Yrr just like Margo was planning to do with the deathgate. It had been a watcher once, keeping the wolves from the flock, and even after it had succumbed to the enemy, becoming what it fought, it had not forgotten what it had once sworn. In the end, it had sacrificed everything to save what it considered vermin, and died true to its oaths.

It also explained much about watcher politics. In giving them certainty over their purpose, the oaths implicitly denied any certainty about what they did not mention, such as how best to perform their mission. The factions weren't merely chasing power; they were split over fundamental principles, with only the oaths holding them to a common purpose.

"… though it cost me my life," Agatha said.

"As you have sworn, so may it be," Margo said. "In you is the ancient promise renewed. From the ashes of despair shall ever be born new hope."

After a moments silence, Wilfred looked sideways at Cordelia and Xander then back at the banner. "Dame Margo, our guests may only be young, but they have proven themselves as dedicated to the battle as any watcher. Indeed, you yourself have deemed them our comrades in arms. Should we not treat them as such in all ways, and give them an opportunity to affirm their dedication?"

"Wilfred," Margo said. "Are you proposing they swear the great oaths?"

"I am, Dame Margo," he said. "They already live as though they had. Why not make it official?"

Cordelia elbowed Xander before he could say anything, then whispered in his ear. "Think first."

"If they wish to swear the great oaths," Margo said, "I cannot deny them, but this is not a burden to be lightly taken up. Mister Alexander, Mistress Cordelia, I must warn you against taking this path."

Agatha nodded. "To swear the great oaths is to attract the enmity of the dark. Mister Alexander, Mistress Cordelia, I must warn you against taking this path."

Giles looked sideways at Cordelia and Xander. "For once, I agree with my eminent colleague. You have only seen a month of combat. It is too early for you to commit yourself to a lifetime of it. Xander, Cordelia, I must warn you against taking this path."

Cordelia looked warily back at him. For Agatha to copy Margo's phrasing was no great surprise; for Giles to do so too could only mean this entire scene had been rehearsed.

Naturally, Xander hadn't noticed a thing. "How old were you when you joined the watchers?" he asked Giles. "We've already made enemies on the dark side, and we've seen Fein Dahlk. We know what your oath involves because we're already living it. I'll—"

Cordelia clapped her hand over his mouth, then glanced at Giles's office. "Dame, would you mind if we had a private chat first?"

"Just what I was about to suggest," Margo said. "This is not a decision you should rush into. Are there any questions you'd like to ask first?"

"What aren't you telling us?" Cordelia immediately asked.

"The name of the nineteenth tirthankara, how to reach Fiddler's Green, what song the sirens sung," Margo said. "There is so much I could tell you, but my time grows short. I suggest you be more specific."

"Are there any double meanings in those oaths," Cordelia asked, "besides 'while life endures'. We saw the ghosts."

"Mankind is quite often misinterpreted, Mistress Cordelia. All creatures capable of moral choice are man's kind. It is our duty to protect all of them, whatever their race, even if they happen to have green skin and horns. At the moment, there are few besides true men who qualify, but it has not always been thus."

Giles stared at Margo, his shock obvious.

"And you're not trying to trick us into becoming watchers?" Cordelia said, looking warily at Margo.

"I am not," Margo said. "I have no desire to see you join the ranks of the council."

"And enrolling you would take weeks," Giles added. "The preliminary fast alone lasts five days."

Cordelia nodded. Margo might be twisting the truth, but not Giles. There were no traps hidden in those oaths, which didn't mean she should immediately rush to swear them. Margo was definitely planning something; the conversation between Giles and Wilfred this morning proved that.

Xander pushed her hand away. "See, Cordy, no tricks here. Lets—"

"—talk," Cordelia said, then looked at Margo. "Will you make sure no one eavesdrops on us?"

"On that," Margo said, "you have my word. No one will hear what you say in there tonight."

"Ok," Xander said, following Cordelia into Giles's office, "but—"

"Don't you realise we're being manipulated?" Cordelia asked.

"Of course I do," Xander said. "Repeating the same warning three times? Obviously rehearsed, but does it matter?"

Cordelia stared at him. How could he not care? Did he want to be Margo's puppet?

Xander sighed. "They're not asking us to do anything we're not already doing."

"They used Jesse," Cordelia said.

"We remembered him," Xander said. "That's better than flowers."

"It's a nice gesture," Cordelia conceded, "but Margo shouldn't expect to get anything for it."

"She's going to be dead in forty minutes, Cordy, and we've got that arrangement. She's not getting anything out of this; it wouldn't matter if she was. All that matters is that it's the right thing to do."

"Why?"

"You know why, Cordy," Xander said. "Too many people have died. You heard all those names, and the list keeps growing. We have to do something, for Jesse's sake, and your mom's, and all the other victims."

Cordelia nodded. "I am doing something. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. And I'm going to keep on doing it, but—"

"Then let's tell the watchers that," Xander said, smiling. "It'll be cool, like the Green Lantern: In brightest day, in darkest night—"

"Some comic book?" Cordelia guessed. "Oaths are old-fashioned."

"That doesn't matter. You're going to live by those oaths anyway, aren't you?"

"I am," Cordelia said, at least until Omega was gone, and her mom avenged. After that, all the other evil stuff would avoid her, letting her live a normal life. The oaths didn't say anything about going looking for evil to fight.

"Then why not say so?"

Cordelia sighed. Xander had clearly made up his mind; he thought oaths sounded heroic, and he was too stubborn to back down.

"Is it because Margo wants you to?" Xander asked. "You're going to do the exact opposite."

"No," Cordelia said sharply. "I'm not a child. It's a big commitment. We shouldn't rush into it."

But Xander did have a point. The only way to avoid being manipulated by Margo was to ignore what she said, and stick to her principles, such as honesty. She shouldn't try to conceal what she was doing, try to hide her principles. She should be honest about what she believed in.

"We've already made the commitment," Xander said. "This just makes it official. I'm going to do it. Are you?"

Cordelia slowly nodded.

* * *

"I will remember the fallen," Cordelia said, kneeling before Margo, "the heroes and the innocent alike. To their memory I dedicate my life. I will strive to live as the heroes lived. I will fight as they fought, in the service of mankind, not for wealth or glory but to protect the innocent, that their slaughter may end, nor shall I lay down my arms while life endures. Without regard to race or creed this I will do, though it cost me my life."

"As you have sworn, so may it be. In you is the ancient promise renewed. From the ashes of despair shall ever be born new hope," Margo said, then smiled. "That concludes the ceremonial portion of the evening. You may stand at ease."

"Now we fight?" Xander said, smiling broadly as he got up off the floor.

"Not quite," Margo said. "First, I must apologise for pressuring you into this. If swearing the great oaths had not been the surest ethically acceptable way of protecting your sanity I would have done everything I could to present that choice being placed before you."

Giles nodded. "Nor would I have cooperated."

"Explain," Cordelia demanded, glaring at him. If he had a good reason for tricking her, she wouldn't hold it against him, much. A few gentle reminders would be enough, whenever she suspected he was hiding stuff from her.

"I will explain," Margo said. "When you encountered the whisperer in darkness—"

"The what?" Xander asked.

"The shadow creature in the funeral home," Margo said. "It planted the seeds of nightmare in your minds, and maybe Harmony's. Being unconscious might have protected her. No one else was close enough to be affected."

"Obvious, much?" Cordelia said. "Giles taught us to meditate. No more problem."

"If only," Margo said. "These seeds are not metaphorical; they are the first stage in the whisperer's reproductive cycle. If nothing were done, in time they would devour your mind from within, then emerge from the hollow husk of your body as a demonic spectre of unparalleled might. The later stages of the life cycle are unclear, but the board is confident that the spectre would eventually head into the outer darkness, where it would mature into the adult form."

"Ok," Xander said. "That would be bad."

"It would," Margo said. "Unfortunately, meditation alone can do no more than retard the growth of the seeds, giving you several years of sanity before the final months of madness. Swearing the great oaths, however, seals your souls to the ancient promise. For so long as you remain faithful to your vows, the seeds shall remain dormant."

Dormant was not good, but if Margo could have done better, she would have. Dormant would have to do, for now. Once Omega was gone, his minions, and their seeds, should fade away.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Xander asked. "Why does everything have to be a big secret?"

"The great oaths are only valid if sworn without thought of reward," Margo said. "It is a standard mystical criterion, meant to ensure purity of purpose. While there are other ways to pass that test, they all involve lengthy ordeals, which I fear the hellmouth would keep you too busy to undertake."

It would have. Margo and Giles had done the right thing, which needn't stop Cordelia bringing it up next time Giles asked for her trust.

Xander looked at Giles. "You'll do this for Willow, won't you, once she's better. I'll—"

"You had best not interfere, Master Harris," Margo said. "There is too great a risk of her noticing. If she expects to receive any benefit, she will gain none."

"But those who expect nothing can gain much," Giles said, "especially when dealing with gods, Cordelia."

"You mean last night," Cordelia said. "I expected to be healed," and she'd heard that the gods gave lousy gifts.

"That was my request of the Maiden, not yours," Margo said. "You asked nothing of her, an act of humility that demanded a reward."

"I was worried about what she might do," Cordelia said. "I've heard the stories. What reward?"

"Your caution was well-founded," Margo said, "but it was also a form of humility, for which you were rewarded. The marks of her favour are plainly visible in your aura, though I cannot read them."

"So you don't know what powers she's got?" Xander asked.

"None," Margo said, "in the sense you mean. The blessings of the Maiden are subtle, and they are not to be envied. Miss Chase will benefit from her humility, but I would be surprised if she enjoyed the experience."

"Great," Cordelia said, more weirdness in her life. She had enough problems already, without the Maiden getting creative. "What marvellous prize do we get for the great oaths?"

"You are warded against certain malign magics," Margo said, "such as the nightmare seeds. The corresponding benign magics will be easier for you to perform — not easy, Master Harris, just easier — and you are now watchers."

Giles looked sharply at Margo. "But—"

"I have not enlisted them into the council, Mr Giles," Margo said, "but there were watchers long before the council first met, nor do all watchers fall under its aegis even now. Some answer only to the board, and some, such as these two, answer to nothing save their own conscience. Forget what Travers said. He does not understand our history."

"Might that be because you have hidden much of it from the council, Dame Margo?" Giles suggested.

"Mr Giles," Margo said, "we have not hidden this truth from him: It is the great oaths that mark us as watchers, those who stand watch against the dark, and the great oaths alone. The lesser oaths are themselves meritorious, but theirs is a transient glory. They change as the world changes; only the great oaths are constant."

"Margo," Cordelia said, before the watchers locked horns again, "is there anything else we need to know about the oaths?"

"Nothing that either of us would think relevant," Margo said. "If Harmony should prove to have been affected other methods will have to be used. She is not currently worthy to swear the great oaths."

"Now do we fight?" Xander asked, glancing at the clock.

"Not quite," Margo said. "I would not send you into battle unarmed — and before you ask, I'm not giving you a magic sword."

"Axe? Crossbow? Gun?" Xander suggested hopefully.

Margo smiled as a large bag appeared at her feet. "For you, Master Harris, a deck of cards."

He scowled. "What am I supposed to do with that? Ask the demons if they'd like to play poker?"

"Playing any card game with this deck would be a rather bad idea," Margo said. "It would be best if you don't even open the box."

"Would that be the 'doesn't work' kind of bad idea," Xander said, looking warily at Margo, "or the 'Oops! Goodbye Sunnydale.' kind?"

"Both outcomes are possible," Margo said. "If you were to start drawing cards from that deck the result would be highly unpredictable. Just put it in one of your breast pockets, over your heart. It will act as a good luck charm."

Xander gingerly accepted the faded box from Margo, who reached back into her bag and pulled out a tiara, set with many diamonds. "This is for you, Miss Chase."

"What does it do?" she asked, frowning suspiciously at it.

"It should make you look more commanding," Margo said. "Hopefully, the demons will be sufficiently unnerved to give you a slight advantage."

"Very reassuring," Cordelia said dryly. "Haven't you tested it?"

"Not fully, Miss Chase," Margo said. "The theory is sound, and it did work well enough in England, but we didn't have an hellmouth handy to test it against."

"Put it on," Xander suggested.

"You know her too well," Margo said. "It would take more than a mild glamour to affect you, and my aides are protected against such magic."

So Cordelia wouldn't know how well the tiara worked until the demons were at her throat? Great plan.

"And for you, Mr Giles," Margo said, "a Caladbolg's scabbard."

"Not the real one, I presume," Giles said, looking skeptically at the piece of drab leather Margo was handing him.

"It is a tenth century copy, Mr Giles," Margo said, "as should be apparent from the stitching, but its maker copied the magic too. It is not quite as strong as the scabbard of legend, but it does have all the same arcane attributes. I hope I do not need to tell you what they are."

"You don't, Dame Margo," Giles said, stroking the leather. "This will be quite useful tonight."

"And for many nights to come," Margo said. "These items come from my own armory. They are mine to dispose of as I wish. However, I would advise against using them, save at greatest need. They are all powerful enough to attract hostile attention, and allowing yourself to grow dependent on their use would be most unwise."

"What about Willow?" Xander asked. "Did you bring her anything?"

"I did," Margo said. "But it appears she is indisposed tonight. Mr Giles will have to give it to her later, once she has sworn."

Giles nodded absently as he walked over to the weapons cabinet.

"I'm sure she'll be feeling better tomorrow," Cordelia said, smiling brightly.

"What about them?" Xander asked, glancing at the Bodsworths.

Agatha patted her broach while Wilfred tapped his ring.

"And I am also adequately armed," Margo said as dozens of gaudy rings appeared on her fingers. "For fifty years I have collected items of power. Now the time has come to use them."

"Are you planning on levelling the entire town, Dame Margo?" Giles asked, looking cautiously at the rings. "Or only half of it?"

"Just one block," Margo said, smiling. "Time to put our cloaks on. You do remember where you left yours, Mr Giles?"

"In my office, Dame Margo," he said, sliding a sword into his scabbard. "Are you suggesting we actually wear them?"

"I am, Mr Giles," Margo said. "Do you have any reasoned objections to doing so?"

"They have been found to be rather impractical, Dame Margo," Giles said.

"For everyday use, yes," Margo conceded, "but it is not everyday that I die, Mr Giles. I strongly suggest that you put your cloak on, rainbow side out."

"I suppose you want to take the banner with you too, Dame Margo," Giles said sourly. "I thought you were being metaphorical."

"I do," Margo said. "It is a shame none of you plays the trumpet, but singing should suffice."

"Dame Margo," Giles said. "There is a time and a place for ceremonial—"

"The time is now, Mr Giles."

"But the place is within this, our sanctum, Dame Margo," Giles said, "not beyond its doors. While ceremonial does have a most useful psychological effect—"

"Invaluable, Mr Giles," Margo said, "but your faction have long underestimated its importance. If you had attended the greater rites more than twice a decade, you would know better."

"I think it no coincidence," Wilfred added, "that the majority of the rebels came from the modernising factions."

"Be that as it may, Dame Margo—" Giles began, ignoring Wilfred.

"Have you considered the psychological impact on the demons, Mr Giles?"

"It will attract them, Dame Margo. I fail to see how this benefits us. The additional risk—"

"Mr Giles, every dead demon benefits us, or do you wish to suggest we are not up to the task?"

He sighed. "It would be a brave man who would suggest that of you, Dame Margo."

"Then it is decided," Margo said as Giles went into his office. "We shall march to my doom in style, banner held high, our voices raised in song."

"You got cloaks for us?" Cordelia asked, looking at the bag. They weren't her idea of style, but no one human would see her wearing them and cloaks could look impressive.

"I have, Miss Chase," Margo said, pulling four out of the bag. "Wilfred, Agatha?"

The Bodsworths accepted their cloaks from Margo, then stepped behind Cordelia and Xander.

"These are yours," Margo said. "Wear them with pride."

Cordelia looked closely at hers; grey, but heavily embroidered on one side with what looked like words, thousands and thousands of them in a hundred different scripts, no two the same colour. "Are these names?"

"They are, Miss Chase," Margo said, "names chosen from among the honoured dead. Your mother's name will lie directly over your heart."

"And Jesse's?" Xander said, the cloak sliding off his shoulder. "Why won't this thing stay on?"

"Allow me," Wilfred said, taking it off Xander. "You had it upside down."

"Naturally, Master Harris," Margo said. "I respect our traditions."

Cordelia fastened her cloak then spun to face Xander, letting it swirl dramatically behind her. "How do I look?"

"Super," Xander suggested, smiling, "Cordy."

"Almost right," Agatha said, making a few subtle adjustments.

Giles stepped out of his office, his cloak wrapped tightly round him. "Satisfied, Dame Margo?"

"Now you look the part, Mr Giles," Margo said, a faint smile on her lips.

"Never mind what I feel like," Giles muttered.

Cordelia smiled sympathetically at him. "I know how you feel." If she'd known she would end up fighting demons with a magic tiara while wearing fancy dress, she would have made a different wish, but every step had made sense at the time, even as it led her deeper into the quagmire.

"Positions please," Margo said, snapping her fingers.

The banner darted forwards, pausing directly over Margo's head.

"I see you are not entirely bound by convention, Dame Margo," Giles said, frowning at the banner as the Bodsworths moved into place, three feet behind Margo. "Cordelia, Xander, form the third rank, and I'll take up the rear."

Cordelia quickly stood behind Agatha, letting Xander take the right hand slot. It meant getting attacked from her left, not generally a good idea, but Xander was right handed too, and his cane was a lot bigger than her fan. If she'd put him on her left, he'd probably have kept accidentally catching her with it.

"There are only six of us, Mr Giles," Margo said, reverting to the disguise she had worn the previous night. "I won't ask anyone to fight one handed."

"Admirable pragmatism, Dame Margo," Giles said, moving behind Cordelia. "For once."

"Tonight," Margo said, "we march into the valley of death, not for wealth or glory, but to protect all mankind. There can be no nobler cause. Even if we should all die, torn limb from limb by the demon hordes, we shall have the satisfaction of knowing we died as we have lived, fighting for what is right."

"Fortunately, Dame Margo," Giles said, "we are all likely to live to experience the considerably greater satisfaction of winning. Once we reach the funeral home, we will be partially protected by the board's lesser seal, and on our way there we will have you to protect us. There would seem to be no need for you to be spreading gloom."

"I will do my best, Mr Giles," Margo said, "but I know my limits. Victory can never be guaranteed." Then she pointed her cane forwards. "To battle!"

"Cheerful, isn't she?" Xander whispered to Cordelia.

* * *

"Sing," Margo shouted, blasting a demon with rainbow fire, then deflected a lightning bolt. "Let the demons hear our determination, and know fear."

"I think they're pretty frightened already," Cordelia said, watching as Margo eviscerated another demon with her fan, then set it on fire. This, the third group of demons they'd seen since leaving the library, stood no more chance against Margo than the others she'd left smeared over the sidewalk.

Cordelia wouldn't need to lift a finger.

The other minions edged backwards, looking nervously at each other.

"I fear no puny mortals," the big demon said. "I am Lozgralch, who—"

"_Ure!_" Margo spat.

"Kill her," Lozgralch shouted, beating out the flames in its robes.

The minions looked at Margo, now wreathed in emerald radiance, then back at their master. "You kill her."

Lozgralch snatched up the nearest minion and crushed its skull, then licked the gore from its crimson fingers. "Obey me or die."

One minion ran, its hooves leaving smouldering pits in the concrete.

Lozgralch clenched his fist, and the fleeing minion exploded. "Surround them, you fools. They are only human; they cannot defeat us."

Xander laughed.

The remaining minions looked at Lozgralch, then rushed forwards, splitting into two groups a dozen yards in front of Margo.

"Remember," Margo said as the minions streamed past her. "You are fighting to protect all mankind. Do not let them down."

"No pressure then," Xander said, turning to face the oncoming demons.

Cordelia nodded. None of the minions had stopped to fight the Bodsworths, probably too close to Margo, which left two each for the rest of them, more than she would have fought in a month before her wish.

They charged towards her, tentacles whipping the air, shouting obscene threats.

Cordelia glared at them, gripping her fan tightly. She'd seen worse language scrawled on her locker, back in her freshman year. She would not be intimidated by this pathetic pack of losers; she would stand her ground. Anyway, running would just get her killed.

The charging minions slowed, looking uncertainly at each other.

Cordelia smiled, as menacingly as she could manage.

One minion tentatively tapped her knee, while the other made an half-hearted jab at her face.

Cordelia clubbed the first minion over the head with her fan, then kicked it in the groin, incapacitating it before it could realise the tiara was a bluff.

The second minion laughed, then punched her in the gut.

Cordelia staggered backwards, bumping up against Xander.

The minion gently swung at her head, then landed three swift blows under her ribs when she raised the fan to block it.

"Duck!" Xander shouted.

As Cordelia ducked a knife hurtled over her head, hitting the minion in the throat.

There was no way Xander could have thrown that, Even Buffy would have had difficulty hitting a target behind her. It must have been thrown by one of the minions he was fighting. Lucky that—

No, not luck, Xander's cards. Her death would definitely be bad luck for him, so the magic would protect her too.

She turned to face him, then smiled. There were two demons laying in front of him, one impaled on the other's horn.

"I see the good luck charm's working," Giles noted dryly, killing the last minion.

Xander patted his pocket. "Las Vegas, here I come."

Giles nodded. "With those cards, you might even survive the resulting power struggle, so long as you didn't meet anyone truly skilled. How was the tiara?"

"Great," Cordelia said, "for the first two seconds, then they saw through it."

"Better than nothing," Wilfred said. "In principle it can do rather more, but only if you have sufficient willpower. A few years practice might help."

Cordelia glared at him. She needed the assistance now, not in two years time.

"Your minions are dead," Margo taunted, deflecting another lightning bolt, "defeated by mere humans. What of your proud boasts now?"

"I am Lozgralch," it said. "I cannot be slain on land or at sea, by day or by night, by the quick or the dead, by fire or by ice, by—"

"That," Margo said, a small black statue appearing in her hand, "was when you were alive. Now you are but a revenant, undead flesh wrapped in a semblance of your former might. The old protections no longer apply."

"That kind of warding was very fashionable at one time," Wilfred added conversationally, "until the demons realised Fate saw it as a challenge."

Margo hurled the statue at Lozgralch, who laughed as he caught it.

"You think to harm me with this toy," he said, crushing the statue. "Me, who—"

A myriad spiders swarmed out of the crumbling statue, some smaller than a nickel, others nearly a foot across.

Lozgralch laughed as he crushed them, but more emerged from that shattered remnants of the statue, until he was lost to sight beneath the scurrying hordes.

"An idol of Ilxolja, spider-god," Margo explained, ignoring Lozgralch's dieing screams. "His minions will not linger here. Shall we move on?"

* * *

"The deathgate," Margo said, "with fifteen minutes to spare."

Cordelia smiled at the sight of the funeral home, still wrapped in a net of white flame, the lesser seal of the board blazoned on each wall — the work of art students on PCP, according to a police statement in the local paper. Few demons would dare come within sight of this building, only the most powerful or desperate, so she should be safe now.

"And we only had to kill a few hundred demons to get here," Xander added, smiling broadly.

"One hundred and seventeen," Wilfred said, "including five behemoth class threats."

Cordelia looked at him, surprised. "You counted them?"

"Keeping accurate records is important," Wilfred said, "especially when the time comes to compose the annals of your deeds."

"This is the east side," Margo noted. "Before we separate, are you all entirely clear on the plan?"

"We've got to guard the four sides of the building," Cordelia quickly summarised, not wanting another explanation.

"When I enter the building," Margo said as the rest of them followed her round, "we can expect the deathgate to summon defenders, metaphorically. I strongly suggest that each of you draw a pentagram clockwise around your position, with two points touching the building. If any of you should be out of position when I cast the final spell, the consequences could be quite unpleasant. It would also be rather undesirable for any of the revenants to break into the building and reach me."

"What about the banner, Dame Margo?" Giles asked. "It is something of a demon-magnet."

"You can have that honour, Mr Giles. You're going to be on the roof, providing back-up. You might need it."

Cordelia exchanged an exasperated look with Xander. Giles would have been much more useful on the ground. The only back-up he could provide from the roof was moral support and perhaps the occasional crossbow bolt, but to summon the hyena victims he had to be halfway between her and Xander, all of which Margo surely knew. She was only pretending to believe his excuse to avoid embarrassing him politically. If only she'd been able to talk openly with Giles about the hyenas, Buffy would have been cured by now, but watchers enjoyed intrigue too much.

"Why, Dame Margo?" Giles asked suspiciously.

"There is a small chance the building will collapse when I seal the deathgate," Margo said, waving her hand dismissively. "If so, you have permission to grab hold of the banner, which should lower you safely to the ground."

"Should, Dame Margo?" Giles asked.

"It is a rather difficult hypothesis to test, Mr Giles," Margo said. "The east side. Take your position, Miss Chase."

Cordelia bowed to the banner, then walked over to the door placed, with typical bad luck, right in the centre of the building's east face.

"Do try and remember what you killed," Xander said as the others marched off. "Wilfred will be so disappointed if you forget."

* * *

Cordelia looked warily at the approaching demons. There must be nearly thirty of them; three big hitters, two of them trailed by a flock of minions, if she was reading their body language correctly. The three weren't standing together, so they must be rivals, in an uneasy alliance.

Giles was still chanting, so he wouldn't be able to help her. She'd have to fend off these demons alone, with just some magic jewellery and the board's seal to help her.

Fifty feet in front of her, they paused, the minions murmuring fearfully.

"An interesting toy," the one in the middle said, her voice the whisper of desert sands, "but you are too weak willed to use it effectively."

The one on the left looked at her, three red eyes glowing in the shadow of its hood. "She bears the Maiden's favour."

"Coward you are," the third one said, drawing a blood red sword, "to fear any child of man. I fear nothing."

"Then you are a fool, Cormoran, son of Nemhain," three-eyes said. "Die once more if you will. I shall take the wiser path."

"The fool's path," Cormoran said.

Three-eyes shrugged. "That lies on the opposite side of the building."

Cordelia smiled. That was the side where Xander was standing, with his lucky cards. If three-eyes had seen him recently, he was probably still be alive.

"You dare mock me?" Cormoran shouted, his bestial face contorted in rage. "I will stuff your rotten heart down your gullet."

"Gentlemen," the middle one said, lightning crackling over her upraised hands. "Could we try to remember who the enemy is? Cormoran, you would have lived longer had you been less foolhardy. Twaisp Twaisb Twaism, you would have lived longer had you spoken more plainly."

"Then I will speak plainly, Alzradin," Twaisp said. "If I fight her I could lose. That the Maiden has guaranteed, no less, no more."

But that was true anyway. However powerful the demon, there was always a chance Cordelia would get lucky. There must be more to the Maiden's favour than that.

"A most potent charm," Alzradin sneered. "Go if you must. I would rather take my chances here rather than face the wrath of earth and fire."

"Coward," Cormoran spat as Twaisp and its minions left. "The lass is only human. Against our combined might she cannot hope to stand."

"Perhaps you should surrender," Alzradin suggested, lazily bouncing a ball of scarlet lightning.

"Make me," Cordelia challenged confidently. Standing in the middle of a large glowing pentagram, with the lesser seal of the board on the wall behind her, she should be completely safe from hostile magic.

"With pleasure," Cormoran shouted. "Charge, boys."

His minions did not move.

Cormoran picked one of them up and threw it at Cordelia. "I said, charge."

The minion slammed into the wall, vanishing in a blaze of white fire."

"I suspect your 'boys' are intimidated by the presence of that foul sigil," Alzradin said. "Swear eternal fealty to me, and I will protect them against it."

"Never," Cormoran shouted, pointing his sword at Alzrafin. "You will kneel before me, and call me Master. Get her, boys."

This time, the minions obeyed, Cormoran himself following close behind.

"Must I do everything myself?" Alzradin asked. "_Servite mihi_. _Contra lucem vos protegam, et victoria vos ducam_. Kill the girl."

Cormoran howled in rage, but his minions all turned and charged at Cordelia, their features now wrapped in swirling shadows.

She braced herself for impact, fan held high. She might not have much chance of surviving a fight, but she had no choice. She had made a promise to a god, a promise she dared not break.

Screaming incoherently, Cormoran leapt at Alzradin, who stepped aside.

Halfway to Cordelia, the minions slowed, the shadows around them beginning to fade, but they did not stop.

Catlike, Cormoran swivelled in mid-air, kicking Alzradin in the jaw.

"…_pugna_," Giles shouted, his chant reaching a crescendo. "Come, to battle and be free."

Alzradin somersaulted backwards, an ebon staff appearing in her hands.

"Anyone need help?" Giles asked.

"Me," Cordelia shouted, then sighed as three voices echoed her. Just as she'd expected, he was going to be too busy trying to help everyone to be much help to anyone.

The first minion hesitated at the outer edge of the pentagram, looking uncertainly at the pale glow, then over its shoulder at Alzradin.

Cordelia watched it steadily, waiting. At least these minions were shorter than her. If they tried using their knives, she'd have the advantage of reach.

The second minion ploughed into the first, knocking it forwards, and the pentagram flared up, golden flames racing clockwise round the lines Cordelia had drawn. The demon screamed, then glared up at her. "Die!"

Cordelia sidestepped as the demon charged her, its clothes still burning, and bashed it over the head with her fan as it slid past.

"_Ira harenarum_," Alzradin whispered, pointing her staff at Cormoran, and around him the air filled with whirling sand.

Cordelia casually kicked the smouldering minion out of the pentagram, her eyes fixed on the struggling demons.

"Xander," Buffy shouted, sounding perhaps a block away.

Three more minions hesitantly stepped into the pentagram, then immediately rolled on the ground, trying to extinguish their burning flesh.

"Quickly," Giles shouted, firing his crossbow at Alzradin. "Hit them while they're down."

As Alzradin knocked the bolt aside, her staff wavered, and Cormoran emerged from the sandstorm, his bones now laid bare.

"I know that," Cordelia shouted, kicking one minion in the head. She hesitated, then bent down and slashed the next minion's throat, an unpleasant but necessary task. "Can't you do anything?"

Giles fired again, skewering the third minion. "You're doing —"

The first minion grabbed Cordelia's ankle and pulled.

As she fell, she twisted round, landing on top of the minion, then stabbed it in the throat.

"—pretty well," Giles said, moving away. "Keep it up."

Flattering, but not what she wanted to hear. Scowling, Cordelia shook the blood off her fan, then rolled aside as another minion leapt at her.

Trailing flames, it hurtled past her ear, hit the funeral home wall, and exploded.

Smiling grimly, Cordelia looked at the remaining minions, challenging them to come closer.

Cormoran and Alzradin danced round each other, sword clanging on staff, typical demon behaviour. She wouldn't have to worry about either of them for a few minutes.

The minions charged.

"Stop!" Cordelia shouted, with all the authority she could muster, trusting to the tiara, and the demons stumbled, two falling amidst the pentagram's golden flames. The rest rushed on.

Cordelia fell back, holding her fan ready.

A storm of tooth and claw and shadow-wreathed scales, they swept over her, heedless of her feeble counterstrokes, and she was down, bared fangs brushing her throat.

"Not so fast," one said, its tentacles caressing her thighs, and the snake-headed demon hesitated. "She hurt us. She must pay."

Forcing away her fears, Cordelia studied the minions, looking for any vulnerable spots. The Bodsworths had recommended the knees, but the angle was wrong, and the groin was too obvious a target. She'd have to aim higher, when the time came.

"She must die," a pig-faced dwarf demon said. "Our masters have ordered it."

"Eunuch," the first demon spat, staring hungrily down at Cordelia's groin. "Women exist to serve only one purpose. With that coin she shall—"

Cordelia lashed out, kicking the leering demon right on the larynx even as she jabbed the snake-demon in the eyes.

Both demons staggered backwards, one clutching at its throat, the other at its face, but the pig-faced demon laughed. "Anyone else want to keep her alive?"

"Yes," Willow shouted, and Cordelia tensed, readying herself for the next round.

A blue-scaled demon smuled down at her, raising one cloven hoof. "Time to—"

Looking frantically to her right, Cordelia started to roll aside as the foot slammed down, a blow that would shatter her skull, then swiftly rolled back the other way, and grabbed up her fan.

The hoof whistled past her head, landing a little to her right, and the demon stumbled, landing across Cordelia.

Laughing, Willow jumped on top of it, then ground her heels into the small of its back. "Think Xander will like—"

"Not now," Cordelia said as she struggled out from under the demon, flinching as Kyle leapt over her, his feet barely missing her nose. "Later."

Rhona staggered past, wrestling with a demon, then others, as the fight shuffled back and forth, confined by the pentagram.

Cordelia squirmed away, barely dodging the trampling feet, until she was in the clear then rose up, fan firmly gripped in her hand, and turned to join the fray.

* * *

Panting heavily, Cordelia sidestepped the last minion.

It skidded past her, into the pentagram's golden flames, and was consumed, like the others before it.

Cordelia looked down at herself, examining her injuries — claw marks on her shoulder, hips and thigh; bite marks on her other shoulder and her wrist; an acid burn marring her left calf; blood still seeping from the cut on her lower back — and she laughed.

She might have some ugly scars now, but she could live with that. Better ugly than dead, but she hadn't died. The demons had died, but she had lived; nothing else mattered. Besides, a little make-up would hide the scars.

"Kyle," Rhona murmured plaintively, and Cordelia sobered. Rhona was cradling his head in her arms, but his body was three feet away.

Tor and Heidi didn't look much healthier. He'd had his gut ripped open, she'd lost her left arm; both survivable injuries, if they got prompt medical attention, but there was no chance of an ambulance and Margo was busy. At least Willow and Rhona didn't look too badly hurt, no worse off than Cordelia herself.

She frowned. All the hyena victims were here, except one. "Where's Buffy?"

"She went round the other side," Willow said, wiping the blood off with a handful of grass. "Where's Xander?"

Round the other side. His lucky charm was definitely working, but she could explain that after Willow had been freed.

Smiling, Cordelia pointed at the doors. "Inside, waiting for you."

"Inside?" Willow said, glancing nervously at the building. "With all the ghosts?"

"He's drawn another pentagram," Cordelia lied. "You'll be perfectly safe," thanks to Giles. The spell he'd just cast would make sure that only the hyena spirits would be harmed.

Willow hesitated, then smiled. "How do I look?"

"Irresistable," and very tacky. She was wearing a skimpy pink bikini, a short red leather miniskirt, bright mauve high heels, and nothing else. Possession had clearly done nothing for her colour sense.

Willow wiped her hands, then sauntered through the golden flames to the doors, her hips swaying.

Behind Cordelia, lightning flashed.

Willow touched the doors, and collapsed, a faint blur sinking into the building

"What—" Rhona began, then Cordelia grabbed her by the elbow and shoved her at the wall.

As Rhona collapsed, half-glimpsed shadows danced across the wall, and were gone.

Cormoran screamed.

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder and groaned. Cormoran was writhing on the ground, its sword forgotten, as Alzradin blasted him with lightning. Soon, he would be dead, and she would be free to target Cordelia.

"That might have been a mistake," Willow said, sitting up. "Where is everyone?"

Cordelia looked warily at her. "New outfit?"

Willow frowned then, blushing furiously, tried to cover herself up.

Cordelia smiled, glad to have the real Willow back. "Don't worry. It's just us girls. What mistake?"

"Margo—" Willow looked at Alzradin, her eyes widening. "I'll tell you later. What are you really doing here?"

Rhona screamed.

"Get her inside the pentagram," Cordelia said. "It's nearly midnight."

Standing over Cormoran's blackened bones, Alzradin looked at them and laughed. "You are but mortal children. You cannot hope to bar my way, not can the witch you serve. I shall destroy her, and bind the deathgate to my service with her blood. I …"

Ignoring the demon's rant, Cordelia turned to help Willow.

"I, we, ate …" Rhona babbled, staring at her hands.

"It wasn't really you. Someone spiked our food," Willow said reassuringly, then glanced at Cordelia and whispered, "What really happened?"

"Later," Cordelia whispered back, then looked sternly at Rhona. "Come here."

"… and I shall reign supreme as the Eternal Empress," Alzradin said. "Bow down before me or die."

Rhona looked up at Cordelia. "Why should I listen to you. You're just an—"

"If you don't, you will die," Cordelia said firmly, ignoring Willow's disapproving frown. Rhona was a bully; threats were the only language she understood.

Rhona laughed unconvincingly, her face still pale with shock. "You wouldn't— Kyle! Those freaks killed Kyle."

Cordelia nodded. "And there are more out there. This is the only safe place."

"Nowhere is safe from my wrath," a male voice rumbled from behind Cordelia.

She turned to look, then scowled. Another three dozen demons had arrived, led by a giant half-snake with a near-human head, a sword in each hand.

Rhona rushed inside the pentagram, sitting down as far from the bodies as she could.

Inside the building, something laughed triumphantly, and the air grew chill.

The demons looked nervously at each other then rushed toward Cordelia, Alzradin chanting a new spell.

The white flames wrapping the funeral home guttered, flared back up, then went out.

"Great," Cordelia said. "What next?"

"The soulstorm—" Willow began as ghosts seeped out of the walls, their inhuman faces contorted in terror.

"I know that," Cordelia said sharply. This was not the time for lengthy explanations. "The pentagram won't hold," not when the board's seal had failed.

The ghosts streamed past, their eyes fixed on the horizon, another bad sign.

"Hear me and tremble, O lords of the dark," Margo shouted, the earth trembling at her words.. "Hear me and tremble, slaves of the Last, for a guardian of life stands against you. I fear not your lies, for I have seen the truth. Death is not a defeat."

The charging demons hesitated, a few feet from the pentagram, then Alzradin shrugged. "_Foedare_!" she said, waving her staff, and the golden flames dimmed.

Again laughter boomed across the grass, the deep bass rumble of an avalanche, and the walls cracked open, more demon-ghosts spilling out.

"Got a spare fan?" Willow asked, eying the demons.

Shaking her head, Cordelia pointed at the bodies. "What about them?"

Snow billowed out of the crumbling funeral home, carried on an arctic wind.

"The Fimbulwinter?" Willow murmured, hesitated, then snatched a knife from Kyle's pants.

Shapes moved within the snow, veiled by its swirling gusts.

"Segenarith," Margo shouted, and Cordelia half-smiled, recognising the word. If this spell was like the blood demon's, it would soon be over.

"_Foedare_!" Alzradin repeated, and the golden flames died, but the lines Cordelia had drawn remained, glimmering faintly in the dim light.

She backed up against Willow, holding her fan at the ready. Facing her, Alzradin smiled grimly, behind her a small army of demons growling threats.

The snow engulfed them all, human and demon alike.

"You better know what you're doing," Rhona said, edging toward Cordelia.

Out in the snow, something growled.

"Beware," Wilfred shouted, his voice barely audible above the howling wind. "Loki … brood … spawn … before …."

The snake demon scowled. "I care not who stands in my way. Be they man or be they god, they shall die."

A blur of movement, white against white, and the demon screamed, black blood oozing from the stump of its missing hand.

"Not the first generation. We'd be dead," Willow muttered. "Loki had three monstrous children; Fenris —"

"Explain later," Cordelia snapped. "What did that?"

"_Foedare_," Alzradin said softly, then whirled, red hot sand jetting out of the end of her staff.

"Duck," Willow shouted, and Cordelia obeyed, raising her fan as a shape passed close overhead, a wolf with bone-white fur, its jaws gaping.

"Wolves," Willow said, redundantly, "snakes, and zombie vikings."

The wolf ploughed into the demons, bowling them over, but they pulled it down, claws ripping into flesh. One of them, three-eyed and warty, licked the blood off its hands, then stabbed at Cordelia.

She knocked aside the thrust with her fan, then slashed at its side on the backstroke.

"You killed Kyle," Rhona snarled, trading punches with a demon.

As a second wolf jumped at Cordelia, she clubbed it on the nose, then kicked the three-eyed demon on the knee.

"Who dares challenge me?" the snake demon bellowed, crushing two zombies in its coils.

Cold laughter thundered from the blizzard's heart, mocking laughter that echoed off the clouds, laughter unending, and the wolves howled joyously, their wounds healing.

Beneath that laughter a sly voice whispered of betrayal and deceit, the words slithering into Cordelia's head.

"Don't listen," she shouted, stamping on temptation. The laughter was deafeningly loud; she should not be able to hear a whisper. "Something's trying to get in our heads."

Tonight might be the perfect opportunity to kill Willow but Cordelia did not want her dead. She wanted to see her pay for her crimes. She wanted to see her suffer as she had made Cordelia suffer, and then suffer some more. Dead, Willow would escape that justly deserved punishment, which was not acceptable.

A giant snake lunged out of the snow, its jaws closing over Alzradin.

"Segenarith," Margo yelled, almost inaudible over the laughter.

Lightning flashed, and the snake shuddered, smoke pouring from its mouth, then it swallowed. Headless, Alzradin's corpse exploded, showering Cordelia with rotting meat.

The demon plunged both its swords into the snake's eyes.

A zombie advanced on Cordelia, a ghostly knife flickering in its hands. The three-eyed demon shoved it aside and smiled. "You hurt me. You will—"

The zombie buried its spectral weapon in the demon's skull, then swung at Cordelia. Desperately trying to remember every fight she'd ever seen, she struck back, her fan going straight through the knife and catching the zombie's wrist.

Willow moved left and Cordelia followed, grimacing as the zombie slashed her ribs. She parried once, twice, kicked the zombie on the shin, then spun right, trusting the others to follow her.

They did, both of them staying at her back as she clubbed the zombie's shoulder.

Two steps forwards, one step right, and Cordelia was facing a demon, the others still a reassuring presence at her back.

It grabbed her wrist, its claws sinking into her skin but the pain didn't matter. Only survival mattered. Yanking herself free, she punched the demon in the face sending it stumbling into the path of a wolf. The blood dripping down her arm was inconvenient, but she could cope. She'd have to.

Back to back the three girls shuffled to and fro for time unmeasured, parrying some blows, taking others, striking out when they could, but for every enemy they downed another appeared from the veiling snow, and the ground was growing slippery.

Then Margo spoke for the third time. "Segenarith," she said, and everything stopped. The howling winds, the many fights, the mad laughter, all were stilled by that word.

Cordelia glanced at the battlefield around her, dozens of inhuman bodies scattered across the blood-stained snow, then turned to look at the heart of the trouble, the funeral home — which had gone. Only a field of rubble remained, stretching to the far horizon, where two glowing figures stood, one towering over the other, presumably Margo and Loki.

"Spatial distortion," Willow said, peering into the distance. "The building was miles across inside, but that must have been a property of the space itself, not …."

Cordelia nodded absently. She could just see Wilfred and Agatha on either side of the rubble field, half-way to the horizon, but there was no sign of Xander or Giles.

Margo collapsed, the rainbow glow around her sinking into the ground then spreading out, an irrridescent shimmer racing across the ruins.

Loki strode toward Cordelia, chuckling softly, and the demons around her fled.

She took one step backwards, then paused. If Loki was free, she couldn't outrun him. If he wasn't, if this was some trickery, she didn't need to.

The rainbow ripples swept past her, over the fleeing demons, and they burned.

Cordelia smiled faintly as the calcined skeletons crumbled away. The rainbow wasn't hurting Loki. The god was still walking towards her, a carefree smile on his lips, sweat glistening on his near naked body. He didn't look very godly, no unearthly beauty or Herculean physique. He looked much like Xander, a charming clown with a face anyone would trust, but the laughter in his eyes was a thin veil over a pit of malice.

Nor should she have been able to see so much detail from several hundred yards. He couldn't really be walking either, not when he'd managed to cover what looked like a dozen miles in just a few seconds. Almost everything about him must be an illusion, a lie intended to beguile her, but Cordelia was not so easily fooled.

A shimmer, and Loki was slouched on jewelled throne, carried by four giants, on his left a pack of wolves, ten thousand strong, on his right, a viking army, spectral axes flickering in rotting hands. Overhead, dragons circled.

Cordelia blinked, but the army was still there. If it was an illusion, it was too strong for her to see through.

The rainbow brushed against the neighbouring buildings then rebounded, waves of colour washing across the rubble.

Loki looked at Cordelia and she understood. A simple invitation would be enough to anchor him in this world, and the rewards would be great.

Willow looked briefly uncertain, then scowled. "No. You can't be trusted."

Loki glared at them, his eyes as cold and dark as the void between the stars, and Cordelia felt the weight of his curse settle upon her soul. As she had spurned him, so would she be spurned. Never would strangers show her mercy. Always they would abandon her, no matter how great her need.

Potentially unpleasant, but Cordelia had always known better than to rely on the kindness of strangers, and Margo had given her enough books on curses that she might be able to find a way round it.

The colours spiralled inwards, a whirlpool of light, golden symbols flickering on its outer rim. Overhead, demon ghosts flashed by, vainly thrashing the air as they were sucked into the maelstrom.

Cordelia quickly turned away. "Don't look. It'll be too bright."

"Like with the blood demon?" Willow said. "It does seem to be a similar spell, though—"

Behind Cordelia light flashed, brighter than the midday sun.

"Willow, Cordy," Xander shouted. "You OK?"

"We're—" Cordelia paused, awareness of pain returning as the adrenalin drained away. "—alive."

She'd already been injured before that last fight, now there was scarcely a square inch of her skin left intact. Weak from bloodloss and bone-deep exhaustion, she stumbled as she turned round, then smiled. Everyone else was still standing. Everyone had survived.

"The warped space is gone," Willow said thoughtfully. "It must have …"

Cordelia nodded. Where the funeral home had stood, there was now a large circle of polished grey rock inscribed with a complex geometrical design, the seal on the deathgate. Opposite her, Xander waved, then clutched his shoulder.

Buffy gently massaged the injury, then paused and fingered his cloak.

Rhona stared, her eyes wide. "That was … that was … incredible."

"It is over," Giles said, walking toward Buffy. "The death gate is sealed."

"Dame Margo has died as she lived," Wilfred added softly. "_Si monumentum requiris, circumspice._"

"Very true." Giles agreed, then looked from Wilfred to Agatha. "If you two would like a moment?"

The aides nodded, then silently limped to the centre of the circle and knelt down, heads bowed.

"You coming?" Xander shouted.

"We've got injured people here," Willlow shouted back, kneeling down besides Heidi.

Rhona looked down at her friends, then hopefully at Cordelia. "That was magic, wasn't it? You can do magic. Make them better."

"I can't do magic," Cordelia hastily said, then pointed at Giles. "Ask him."

"I never studied the healing magics," he said, circling round the seal, Xander and Buffy following close behind him. "Are they badly injured?"

"They're dieing," Willow said. "They need an hospital."

"We all do," Cordelia said, looking at the approaching trio. Buffy was uninjured, of course, but so was Giles, and Xander seemed only lightly mauled. "We didn't have a good luck charm."

"Do something," Rhona said. "Can't you do something?"

"We're doing everything we can," Giles said reassuringly. "Xander, where's the nearest phone box?"

"Two blocks that way," he replied, his eyes widening as he looked at Willow, who blushed and retreated behind Cordelia.

"Buffy," Giles said, giving her a few coins, "tell them you saw some people getting mugged."

"By a gang on PCP?" Xander suggested, smiling.

"I rather suspect they'll forget to ask," Giles said as Buffy ran off.

Rhona frowned. "Kyle is dead. How can you all sound so casual? Is this a normal night for you?"

"You know that big explosion last night?" Xander said. "That was us."

"Last night?" Rhona muttured. "Last night I… No! I did nothing. I saw nothing."

"Same as tonight?" Cordelia suggested. Rhona lacked her high moral standards; if she ever stopped denying the weirdness she would try abusing it.

Rhona hesitated, then nodded. "We were mugged, but you rescued us. Did I see your faces?"

"These three were fellow victims," Giles said, gesturing at Cordelia, Willow and Xander. "The muggers got bored and ran off."

Xander mock-pouted. "But I wanted to be a rescuer."

"You don't want to attract official attention," Giles said firmly.

"They're coming," Buffy shouted, running back toward Cordelia and the others, then she frowned. "You're wearing a cloak too, and you feel—"

"Not now," Cordelia said, carefully not glancing at Willow. "We'll explain everything later."

Wilfred and Agatha stood up, then bowed respectfully. "To aid you in your duty has been our privilege. May you ever be a light in the dark places."

"May the shadows never claim you," Giles replied, bowing back, and the two aides hobbled briskly away.

In the distance, the sirens sounded.

"Right," Giles said. "You all know your story."

"It's not a story," Rhona said hotly. "We were all mugged, and they stole Willow's clothes."

Giles nodded, then looked at Buffy. "We shouldn't stay. The police will need to make some pretence of investigating this incident, and your mother has been looking for you."

Buffy winced. "She has? What did you tell her? You didn't—"

"We said we thought you were with Willow," Giles reassured her as the two walked away.

Two police cars rounded the corner, followed by an ambulance, and Cordelia smiled. Normality was back.

With the deathgate sealed and Margo gone she would only have the standard hellmouth weirdness to contend with, vampires and a few demons, but nothing really serious, especially since she knew what to expect. After what she'd been through in the last week, it was going to seem easy.


	22. Cordelia's Ghost: Library Chatter

Cordelia looked round at the others, amused. Two days ago, they had defied a god, and seen the deathgate sealed. Now, they were back at school, living a thoroughly normal life.

Well, almost normal. Everyone was sitting round the library table, comparing notes about the last week's weirdness, but then it was the first time they'd all met up since that Sunday night.

'There was a fight,' Willow said, 'which must be when the hyenas got me. After that, it's all a blur.'

Cordelia looked thoughtfully at her bandages. 'So, you and Buffy don't remember what you did? Rhona seemed to.'

Caught out, Willow looked down at the library table.

Cordelia smiled sympathetically. She could understand why Willow had tried claiming amnesia, her behaviour in the pizza parlour would not be something she'd want to talk about, but if she denied remembering they couldn't give her any help getting over the experience. She didn't deserve any help, of course, not after the way she'd hurt Cordelia back in the original history. Still, she wasn't acting like the Willow who had seduced Xander. Looking into her troubled eyes right now, Cordelia could only see a girl who desperately needed help, not the arrogant witch that girl would become.

Well, Cordelia was one of the good people. She had always helped people who needed her, without having to be asked, and having Willow owe her a favour should prove useful. Besides, Xander was too clueless to realise what the pizza parlour incident meant.

'I remember bits,' Willow eventually said. 'I know we did ... bad things.'

'You don't have to talk about them,' Buffy said, glaring at Cordelia. 'Tell her, Giles.'

'It would be best not dwell on the memories,' Giles agreed, 'but a man was killed. I will need to know if you ... were involved. Acts like that can leave you more vulnerable to certain forms of black magic. You-'

'I wasn't there,' Buffy said quickly. 'I spent the night in the sewers, and they were new shoes too.'

Giles frowned. 'You didn't eat any of the demons you killed, did you?'

Buffy shook her head. 'They smelled ... wrong. I broke into a butcher's.'

'I, we, um-' Willow began.

'It wasn't you,' Xander said, smiling reassuringly. 'You don't wear miniskirts.'

Willow blushed faintly. 'It feels like me, in my memories, only not.'

Giles nodded. 'I may be able to help with that. I will need to know exactly what you and Buffy remember doing, but it's not something that should be discussed in public. I'll talk to you both in private later.'

'What about the others?' Xander asked, rubbing at the bandage on his forearm.

'Remember what the doctors told us,' Cordelia said, slapping his hand away, and Willow frowned.

'We're encouraging their families to leave Sunnydale,' Giles said, looking at Xander. 'Putting some distance between them and their memories should help, and it will reduce the risk of exposure to black magic.'

'What,' Willow asked abruptly, 'did you and Xander do while we were ... you know?'

'Not much,' Cordelia said, shrugging dismissively. Most of what they had done, they couldn't talk about.

Buffy frowned. 'You said that big explosion, Saturday night, was you.'

Xander smiled. 'That was Margo. There was this giant evil hand sleeping under Cordy's house. She blew it up with a magic cup.'

Cordelia nodded. 'All we did was watch.'

'And the next day you decided to fight a army of demons. I saw you,' Willow said, smiling. 'Why? I wouldn't have thought you'd do that, not because you're not brave enough, but because you're not very good at fighting, not good compared with Buffy that is. You didn't have any help apart from that magic circle, which didn't stop the demons getting inside it, just burned them a bit, and there were hundreds of demons out there, some of them very powerful, as far as I could tell. To fight alone against such odds you'd have to be, um, ...'

'Brave?' Cordelia suggested icily, then smiled. 'Not really. Margo gave me a magic tiara.'

'She did?' Willow gasped. 'What did it do?'

'Made her look stronger,' Xander said. 'Didn't you notice?'

'She did feel different,' Buffy said slowly. 'She still does. Both of you do. You feel ... safe, like home, like Giles.'

'They would,' he said. 'Dame Margo persuaded them to attend a remembrance ceremony that night. As a slayer, you can feel its lingering effects.'

'You let her cast a spell on them?' Willow said, looking at Giles. 'What did it do?'

'It wasn't a spell,' Giles said, then lied. 'It didn't do anything useful. It just marked us as good people, which is what Buffy can sense.'

'Oh,' Willow said, then looked at Xander. 'Margo didn't force you to do anything else?'

'She persuaded us to guard the funeral home,' Cordelia said, then smiled as if in fond reminiscence. 'She was a difficult person to say no to, though she did you'd managed to.'

That should divert Willow into boasting about her success rather than probing to find out what else Margo had done. They'd tell Willow eventually, of course, but it wasn't safe for her to know yet.

'I did,' she said, taking the bait. 'I shouldn't have. She'd have exorcised the hyena if I hadn't.'

'You mean she knew and didn't do anything?' Buffy said. 'But-'

'She knew about me,' Willow said. 'She can't have known about you, and I think I said no to too much.'

'This would have been on Friday night?' Giles said, nudging his glasses.

Willow nodded. 'After we'd 'accidentally' got separated from you and Buffy, Margo 'accidentally' did something that suppressed the hyena, then started talking about how she could help me. I told her that I didn't want her meddling with me at all, ever, that she should stop 'helping' me, and leave me completely alone.'

Buffy scowled. 'She could still have gotten rid of the hyena.'

'If she could have,' Giles said, 'she would have, but she had sworn a binding promise to respect free will. Doing anything to Willow in the face of her blanket forbiddance would have broken that promise. Even continuing to suppress the hyena spirit would have done that.'

'That's what I thought,' Willow said. 'The moment I said that, she let the hyena come back, then knelt down in front of me and apologised. She said she'd made a dreadful mistake, but she hadn't. I made the mistake, and people died, because I outsmarted myself.'

That must really rankle. Willow didn't have Cordelia's natural beauty and charm, or her money; her only asset was her mind, and now that too had let her down. On Friday night, she had tried to think her way out of a problem, and failed. She would be feeling even more insecure than normal.

'You couldn't have known,' Giles said quickly. 'You can't blamed. You weren't exactly thinking clearly.'

Cordelia nodded thoughtfully. In the original history, Xander had soon recovered from his possession, but he used laughter as his mental shield against the horrors of the hellmouth, and the hyena spirits wouldn't have dented that. Willow had not been so lucky. Her shield seemed to be a belief in the power of knowledge to keep her safe, a belief which had now been obliquely challenged, hindering her recovery. Cordelia would be able to help her, but not before she'd had time to think about how. Until then, the best she could do was change to a less sensitive subject.

'Blame Margo. She could have found a way,' Cordelia said firmly. 'Are there many more people like her in the council? They could kill the Master for us.'

'One Margo was enough,' Xander said lightly. 'She made me wear a suit.'

Giles smiled fondly. 'Dr Erich Thonius would have insisted you wear the traditional costume of a slayer's auxillary, and not just for the ceremonies.'

'Let me guess,' Willow said, her smile clearly forced. 'Tudor, with big collars and lace?'

'Nothing so modern,' Giles said. 'It is much like the slayer's ceremonial costume.'

'He'd want us all to walk around with seagulls on our heads?' Cordelia said. 'What century is he living in?'

'These costumes are said to pre-date the pyramids, but only Buffy would get a seagull. As her watcher, I'd have the supposed privilege of having a pewter owl mounted on my helmet. ' Giles smiled. 'You three would get brass sparrows, but all of us would have to wear the leather skirts.'

'Skirts?' Xander echoed, his eyes widening. 'I don't think we want him here.'

'Not unless there's an apocalypse,' Buffy said, then smiled at Xander. 'Grey is not your colour.'

'He will not come here for anything less,' Giles said. 'None of the board will. They've assured me that they're not sending anyone else here until the skies rain blood and the oceans boil, until the hellmouth opens and the demon armies march forth.'

'Another apocalypse?' Harmony said, sidling through the library doors. 'Already?'

Giles looked sharply at her. 'Hypothetical only. Why? Were you-'

'I don't have to explain myself to you,' Harmony said. 'Cordelia, we need to talk.'

'Now?' Cordelia said, glancing dismissively at her younger self. The girl did need her advice, but she wouldn't be willing to listen yet, and none of her problems were urgent enough to justify coming into the library.

'Is anything weird happening today?'

'Apart from you being in here?' Buffy asked, scowling at Harmony.

'Thought not,' Harmony said, paused, then looked directly at Cordelia. 'You can hang with these losers and save the world, or you can live a normal life. You cannot do both.'

'She can,' Buffy snapped. 'We all can, and we're not losers.'

Harmony sighed. 'You're in a school library at half seven in the morning. That makes you-'

'-dedicated,' Giles interrupted. 'And you? What's your excuse for being here so early.'

'I care about my friends. I don't want them to get hurt, but they will be-' Harmony turned to face Cordelia. '-if you don't get off the fence. Being near you is dangerous now.'

'Living in this town is dangerous. I won't-' Cordelia froze, remembering what had happened to the real Harmony.

'Let them get hurt?' the fake suggested. 'The weird stuff wants to kill you.'

'It wants to kill everyone,' Cordelia said flatly. But, as Giles had warned, she had made herself into a target. Harmony was right about that, and that alone.

'But with you, it's personal.' Harmony glanced at Xander and Willow. 'They've only known Buffy a month. How many times have they been almost killed since then?'

Too many, but all the narrow escapes had been worth it. Without their help, and Cordelia's, Buffy would soon have died. The vampires and demons would have killed everyone in Sunnydale, however deep in denial they were. Still, none of them had probably had quite so many near-death experiences before they got involved with Buffy.

'They volunteered,' Giles said. 'Cordelia's other friends have not.'

A comment which cut both ways. On the one hand, her normal friends weren't seeking out danger; on the other hand, danger was seeking Cordelia out, placing all those near her under threat. They might be safer if Cordelia cut them off, committing herself wholeheartedly to fighting the weirdness, as she had vowed she would, for her mom's sake.

Talking about shoes with Aura would not help Cordelia get vengeance for her mother's death, nor would it do anything to end the slaughter of the innocents, however much it helped Cordelia's sanity, and Harmony needed space. No, there was only one choice.

'Let's talk privately,' Cordelia suggested reluctantly, glancing at Giles's office.

Harmony nodded. 'I'm sure your freak friends won't mind if we talk behind their backs,' she said, oozing insincerity.

'We won't,' Giles calmly agreed. 'We trust Cordelia.'

* * *

'Cordelia,' Harmony said, closing the office door behind her, 'you will listen to me. You-'

'Harmony,' Cordelia said slowly 'have you forgotten who you're talking to?'

'You're wearing my face,' Harmony said softly, 'the face you stole. How could-'

'Then why are you talking to me like I was Aura?' Cordelia said, radiating insouciance. 'I-'

'You-' Harmony began.

'You will not interrupt me,' Cordelia snapped. 'I am older and wiser than you. You will-'

'No,' Harmony said, 'You-'

'You will never get anything out of me that way,' Cordelia said, loudly overriding Harmony's objections, 'but we're both sensible people.'

'So,' Harmony said meaningfully, 'we should sit down and listen to each other?'

Cordelia smiled, glad Harmony had picked up the hint. Neither of them would lightly concede anything, it'd make them look weak, but sometimes tactical adjustments had to be made.

'We should,' she said, then dropped to a whisper. 'Giving up the weird stuff isn't an option. Dame Margo made us swear oaths. I have to fight the monsters, or my soul will get eaten.'

'Isn't that black magic?' Harmony whispered back. 'I though-'

'No. That shadow thing in the funeral home did something to us. The oath protects us against it, but don't tell Willow. If she finds out, it would be bad.'

The oath wasn't the main reason for staying in the fight, of course, but if she mentioned vengeance Harmony might want to join in. Her mother had died too.

'I'm sure you don't want to endanger your friends,' Harmony said, smiling insincerely.

'I'd never knowingly put them in danger,' Cordelia agreed,'but just living in Sunnydale is dangerous. I can't protect everyone, but--'

'You can protect your friends,' Harmony said, 'from random attacks.'

Cordelia nodded, ignoring the implied caveat. 'But I can't protect you from yourself,' and while she certainly could protect her friends from non-random attacks, whatever anyone said, but she had other priorities now. Her mom's killers had to die, and the slaughter of the innocents be stopped for all time. Hanging out with Harmony and Aura wouldn't help her do that, so she would have to deny herself that pleasure, for now.

Besides, she had let her mom die. She didn't deserve to enjoy herself.

'Cordelia?' Harmony said softly, looking almost concerned. 'I said, why would you need to?'

'Something Margo said,' Cordelia whispered. 'The things you've been through pushed you to the edge of madness. You need space to recover, and peace. When you're no longer mentally unstable we can do something about your body, not before.'

'I'm perfectly sane,' Harmony said firmly. 'I'm not unbalanced, and I'm not leaving town.'

Cordelia looked sceptically at her. 'She also suggested you need to get away from me. I remind you of things best forgotten.'

'Looking in the mirror does that,' Harmony whispered sourly, 'but watching you living my life is ...'

'Bad for your sanity,' Cordelia replied.

Harmony smiled triumphantly. 'Then we'll have to avoid each other.'

'Only temporarily,' Cordelia said. 'While you recover.'

'Of course,' Harmony said. 'I'll try not to let your reputation suffer too much.'

Cordelia shrugged, going to the door. 'Social death isn't as final as real death. Fighting my way back to the top might be fun.'

Harmony opened the door, then turned and looked at Cordelia. 'The future's looking better already.'

Cordelia watched her leave, then walked over to the table, studying the expressions of her friends. Buffy looked both sympathetic and indignant, Willow looked thoughtful, Giles was unreadable, but Xander looked amused. He must have spotted Harmony's double meaning.

'You staying?' he said, redundantly.

'With friends like you, who needs her?' Cordelia asked, sitting down. 'This is where I belong,' not forever, just until evil was defeated. A few months should be enough, once Buffy accepted her leadership, two years at the most, and then Cordelia could collect her well deserved rewards. Everything she had ever wanted would be hers for the taking, everything.


	23. Three Temptations: Knowledge

Jenny frowned as she shuffled the tarot cards, almost dropping two. Casting bones gave a much more nuanced picture, but all hers had exploded, the night the future changed, and the replacements she'd made had shattered when the dead rose. Making a third set would have been tempting fate.

'What is your destiny?' her Uncle Enyos asked.

Jenny dealt out five cards, carefully placing them in the centre of the coffee table, under the light bulb. The cards were full of dire omens, of course, every divination for the last two months had been, but the cards only revealed what was most likely. With the forewarning they gave, she should be able to continue avoiding the worst of the horrors they showed.

'All reversed, again,' Enyos noted, then frowned. 'The Lovers and the Queen of Hearts are a potent combination.'

Jenny nodded. Those were good cards to see, when they were the right way up, but reversed their symbolism was inverted. Sitting next to each other, they spoke of a powerful woman ruled by perverted lusts.

'And they are flanked by the Ace of Spades and Death,' Enyos added.

'Change for the worse,' Jenny said, then pointed at the Devil, careful not to let her shadow fall on the cards. 'Imposed from outside.'

'Angelus,' Enyos said. 'It has to be.'

Jenny sighed. 'There's no sign his curse is weakening, and—'

'You do remember why I'm here?' Enyos said with false patience. 'Ever since the future changed, every last omen and portent has warned of the coming darkness, of Angelus.'.

'Uncle,' Jenny said firmly. 'Those prophecies are not about Angelus. I've been spying on him for years. If our curse were failing, I'd know.'

Admittedly, until recently she'd only bothered watching Angelus for a couple of hours a week, but he'd had a very monotonous unlife. She'd sent her family colourful descriptions of his suffering and they'd sent her $700 a month, tax free. Everyone had been happy, except Angelus, until he'd decided to move to Sunnydale.

'Why did he move here?' Enyos challenged her. 'Why has he changed his behaviour?'

'I've seen him receiving instructions,' from Cordelia, amazingly, but she couldn't tell her uncle that. He'd want to take drastic action. 'That doesn't matter though.'

'Doesn't matter?' Enyos sputtered. 'Some one dares consort with the undead, and—'

'I've read the accounts of Angelus's atrocities. They are terrible, but they are not terrible enough.'

'He slaughtered—'

'There are worse things than Angelus loose in this town. This card must refer to one of them.'

'Worse than Angelus?' Enyos said. 'Nothing could be worse than him.'

'You've only been here two days. Trust me, there's worse.'

'Not walking this Earth.'

Jenny shuddered. 'You weren't here when the dead rose.'

'Petty necromancy,' Enyos said dismissively, then smiled. 'Shall we see what the cards say?'

Jenny scooped them up and began shuffling. Whatever they said, her uncle would twist it to mean Angelus, but his was a small evil, his crimes little worse than what any spoilt child might do, if they had the strength. He had neither power nor imagination enough to be the horror the cards so clearly warned of.

'Who seeks to transform you?' Enyos asked.

One by one Jenny dealt out the cards, two from the minor arcana, three from the major.

'Angels are messengers,' Enyos said, pointing at the Page of Diamonds. 'The cards confirm his guilt.'

'Then why the Moon?' Jenny asked pointedly. 'Dreams and illusions are not his style.'

Enyos peered thoughtfully at the cards. 'He must have learnt some new tricks, but look at the cards. You've got the Nine of Spades, flanked by The Star and The Tower, all reversed. That's unending malice in the service of despair and destruction.'

Jenny shivered. 'Not just destruction. Reversed, it means destruction more terrible than we have ever seen, remember.'

'Angelus can do that,' Enyos insisted, rubbing his hands together. 'What happened to the heating?'

Jenny shrugged the question aside, focused on the shadowed cards. 'This month alone, I have have seen half a hillside reduced to dust. Angelus could nev—'

Midword, Jenny paused. Shadowed? She'd deliberately put the cards directly under the light, far from all shadows, so why were they lost in gloom?

'Angelus could,' Enyos began, then hesitated, staring warily at the cards. 'It's not the heating, is it?'

Jenny nodded, shivering. The cards were barely visible now, submerged beneath a pool of darkening shadows, and frost was condensing on the walls, intricate filigrees that looked suspiciously like runes,

'How can he be doing this?' Enyos asked incredulously. 'A window works both ways, but—'

'It's not Angelus,' Jenny said firmly, picking a ruler off her desk. Scattering the cards should stop whatever was happening, but there was no way she was sticking her hand in those shadows.

'Who, then?' Enyos asked, slowly circling the table. 'There are only a few dozen demons loose worldwide, and not one of them could do this.'

'Not now, Uncle,' Jenny said firmly. Nothing visible remained of the cards now, just a perfect circle of blackness, like a window into eternal night.

Bending down, her uncle grabbed the table by the legs and hurled it across the room.

The ebon circle did not move. It stayed where the table had been, suspended in mid-air.

'A portal?' Enyos said tentatively. 'How?'

A pillar of shadow erupted out of the circle, a mass of writhing tentacles and yonic voids that swallowed all light.

Shivering, Jenny backed up into the nearest corner, shoulder blades digging into the wall. 'Do something.'

'Me?' Enyos asked, his voice trembling. 'Fight that thing?'

Outside, the dawn chorus stuttered, then fell silent.

'I can't do anything,' Jenny admitted, watching the shadows weaving towards her, darker than the darkness. 'Not without my computer.'

No doubt, given five minutes online, she could find a suitable rite of dismissal, but her computer was on the far side of the shadow creature, as unreachable as Venus.

'Progress,' Enyos muttered sarcastically, his voice strangely deep.

Three tendrils of shadow hovered in front of Jenny, tips lazily twitching. Perhaps—

Just as she began to hope, they struck, one slithering through her lips, the other two plunging into her eyes, twin spikes of cold.

Twisted images flashed across her mind: having wild sex with her uncle in the computer room, while her class took frantic notes; lasciviously caressingly Fritz as he castrated Xander while Giles watched helplessly; sitting, stark naked, astride the new principal's corpse, and slowly rubbing gobbets of his rotting flesh across Fritz's glistening skin, over his well-muscled chest then down, down to where his hands were so delightfully busy.

'No,' Jenny shouted, even as new images flooded her mind, images ever more depraved, healthy lusts warped into vile hungers. 'I—'

Then she froze, stunned into silence by the sound of her own voice, twisted into a siren's call. She couldn't have sounded so sultry if she tried, but there was a shadow tendril filling her mouth, as insubstantial as hope, as real as death.

And if it could change her voice so easily, it surely would not stop there. It would remake her, body, mind and soul. Inevitably, she would become the dark seductress of the visions, prey to unspeakable lusts. Nothing could save her from that fate, promised by the Tarot cards, nothing at all.

Shivering, Jenny hunched down in the corner and turned her face to the wall.

Three more shadow tendrils approached her, two of them brushing teasingly against her breasts, the third tapping against her ankle, then slowly spiralling up her leg.

'We can't hope to win,' Enyos said, his voice a bass rumble that sent delightful ripples down her spine, 'but we have to try. That way, at least our deaths won't be completely pathetic. Repudiate this … abomination, three times.'

The vile images flowed on, each more vile than the last, and the shadows oozed down her throat, seeping into her flesh.

Her uncle was right, of course. Their words could no more turn back this darkness than they could the tides, but they would have tried.

'I repudiate it,' Jenny said quietly, her silky voice promising forbidden pleasures. 'I repudiate this shadow, and all it has shown us. I repudiate it and all it has done to me.'

The tendril wrapped itself round her knee, its touch sweet agony.

'By my blood freely given, be banished,' Enyos said, then gasped.

The darkness quivered, then deepened, the echoes of his words twisting into distant laughter.

'By blood and bone freely given, I shall banish you,' Enyos said. 'Go back from whence you came, and trouble us no more.'

The tendril inched up Jenny's thigh, tantalisingly slowly.

Enyos screamed, ecstasy melting into agony, and the darkness fled.

Jenny blinked, dazzled by the returning light, then shakily stood up and stumbled over to the mirror. Her clothes felt tighter in some places, looser in others, but not drastically so, and her face was still recognisably her own. Her skin did look slightly smoother, her lips slightly fuller; and her hair was definitely silkier, but she could have achieved the same effect with a little make-up and the right shampoo.

No doubt that parade of twisted lusts would haunt her nightmares for years to come, she probably wouldn't even be able to look at a cabbage without flashbacks for many months, but it could have been so much worse. It would have been, if her uncle hadn't remembered the old magic.

Smiling, she turned to look at him, then froze.

'Got any bandages?' he asked, right hand clamped over his left wrist, to little effect. The blood was still gushing freely from the stumps of his fingers, pooling on the carpet below.

'In the kitchen,' Jenny said, running to get them. 'We need ice too. The hospital will—'

'No,' Enyos said firmly. 'Undo my sacrifice and that abomination might be able to return. You should know that. Bring the matches too.'

'Um, yes,' Jenny said, stretching to reach the first aid box. 'Reverse the spell, reverse the effect, but you're family.'

'You should have realised blood might work yourself,' Enyos grumbled. 'Everyone knows blood is life. You rely too much on computers.'

'Blood wasn't enough though,' Jenny said, returning with the bandages, and she hadn't had anything to cut herself with anyway. Gingerly kicked his pocket knife aside, she knelt down beside him. 'What was that thing?'

'How would I know?' Enyos snapped. 'Do I look like a watcher? Tourniquet first.'

Jenny smiled faintly as she tightened the bandage. According to the family stories, there'd been a slayer in the clan, several centuries back, and she'd had a watcher at her side, a man who could summon lightning with a wave of his hand, and smash castles to rubble with a single word of power. Her uncle didn't look much like that legendary figure, but then that watcher probably hadn't either.

'Now cauterise the wound,' Enyos said, then hesitated. 'You might have been right.'

'About what?' Jenny asked, lighting a match.

'Angelus,' Enyos said reluctantly. 'If he had been as powerful as that abomination, we would never have been able to curse him.'

Jenny nodded. 'Do you want a gag, or something? This is going to hurt.'

'Got any brandy?' her uncle suggested. 'We'll have to kill Angelus.'

'Why? What happened to torturing him for eternity?' Jenny asked. Killing Angel would be folly. He was on their side now. He must have killed over a dozen vampires since he arrived in Sunnydale, more than she or her uncle could hope to do. Unless the slayer turned up, he was their only protection, but there was no way her uncle would ever accept that.

'That abomination might break our curse. We cannot not permit that to happen. Angelus must never be freed. Nothing else matters.'

'But—'

'No arguments. Angelus must die.'

***

'Are you sure you're feeling better?' Giles asked politely. 'We can always defer this if you aren't.'

Cordelia nodded. 'You look awful. Didn't you get any—'

Xander nudged her in the ribs, then smiled. 'One day's not worth being sick for. You should have taken the week off.'

'I'm fine,' Jenny said firmly. She'd needed the day off yesterday to recover from the Tarot card disaster, but she couldn't afford to take two days off running, not after the new principal had spent his first staff meeting railing about slacking teachers.

If Flutie had still been in charge, then she would have taken the week off. She'd been able to take a long hot bath yesterday, which had helped, but then she'd decided to look for a way to suppress the flashbacks.

It should have been a mere five minute job; autohypnosis was a well-understood procedure. Instead, it had taken hours just to work out how badly that abomination had battered her, scarring even the deepest levels of her mind..

It had taken even longer to find a solution that couldn't accidentally erase her entire memory. The final solution, a blend of meditation techniques and mild mind-warding magics, did have some side effects, but it was much better than lobotomising herself.

What she really needed now was a few peaceful days to recover, and a boss who wouldn't ask any questions.

Flutie would have been perfect, but he was dead, supposedly eaten by a pack of stray dogs. She had to deal with Snyder now.

'… and you're wearing way more make up than normal,' Buffy said, looking thoughtfully at her. 'You sure—'

'Yes,' Jenny said, then swiftly changed the subject. 'Why are you here anyway?'

Willow, she could understand, but Buffy didn't seem like an avid reader and, according to the staffroom gossip, neither Xander nor Cordelia had stepped foot in the library before this term.

'They've been working on a special project,' Giles said quickly. 'Naturally, they volunteered to assist.'

'We can't rehearse while you're scanning,' Cordelia added

'Shakespeare, for the talent show, right?' Jenny said, smiling mischievously at Giles as she sat down. 'We're all looking forward to that.'

'We?' Giles said tentatively, while Willow gasped in shock, her mouth opening wide enough to —

'The teachers,' Jenny explained, pushing away the obscene image. 'Mr Barnes caught Harmony talking about the rehearsal she saw last month.'

He'd been teasing the music teachers again, and they'd risen to the bait spectacularly. Geraldine had spent twenty minutes ranting incoherently about Giles, while Hubert had seized on the garbled details of the rehearsal and waxed lyrical about just how badly Shakespeare would be massacred.

Giles missed a lot, spending all his time in the library.

'You'll be amazed how good I am,' Cordelia said smoothly. 'Giles has been an inspiration. He makes …'

Jenny smiled sceptically. Giles's influence might explain the recent improvement in Cordelia's grades, if it had taken a few month. It hadn't; one weekend was all it had taken, nor had that been the only dramatic change.

Jenny herself hadn't known the pre-Giles Cordelia very long — she'd only arrived in Sunnydale three months ago, two days after Angel – but all the other teachers were agreed. She'd been just like the rest of her clique, a slave to teen fashion without a single original thought in her head.

Not any longer. Now she spent half her free time in the library, with people she had once despised. She'd dropped all her old friends except Harmony and, most importantly to the other teachers, her grades had gone from banal to near brilliant.

Most of the teachers had originally suspected cheating; Cordelia wouldn't have been the first cheerleader to get unofficial help, but that couldn't explain the assured way she answered questions in class. She didn't sound like someone reciting rehearsed answers; she sounded like a fairly bright student, who'd read ahead in the textbook.

The consensus now was that Giles had been secretly tutoring Cordelia for months before his official arrival in Sunnydale, though there had been much idle debate on why he'd been doing that, and how he'd managed to keep it secret. Batting around ludicrous conspiracy theories was much more entertaining than moaning about the coffee, though not quite as enjoyable as watching Geraldine and Hubert.

The staffroom only had half the picture though. None of the other teachers had seen Cordelia coming out of a dingy café, with Angelus following meekly behind her, nor would they have had any idea how disturbing that was.

Jenny did. Once she'd recovered from the shock, she'd abandoned that night's plans, and hurried back to her computer. A quick trawl of the school accounts had unearthed confirmation; Cordelia was giving Angelus orders, supposedly on behalf of a secret society.

That claim wasn't credible; if Cordelia was working for someone else, she wouldn't need to use the school computers. Her information was accurate though, startlingly accurate for a teenager working alone.

Jenny had spotted Cordelia a few more times since that night too, mostly giving Angelus more orders. Once though, she had stumbled on Cordelia and Xander fighting a vampire. Unable to help, unwilling to walk away, Jenny had watched from a safe distance as the two struggled, wincing every time one of the teenagers was slammed against the wall.

Twice, Jenny had almost gone to help, but they had needed none. In the end, Xander had punched the vampire in the groin. Before it could recover, Cordelia had plunged a stake into its eye, then somehow decapitated it. More amazingly still, the casual way the two had limped away together had made it plain that they thought killing vampires was nothing special.

Jenny might have suspected Cordelia of being the slayer, if the legends hadn't been so clear. Slayers were seven foot tall, and very well built. They could smash boulders with their bare hands and throw a stake straight through the heart of a vampire at a thousand pace; nothing short of a demon lord could hope to hurt them.

Even allowing for the inevitable exaggerations, there was no way Cordelia could be the slayer, but nor was she just another girl. She was an enigma, with a body men would kill for, which would be entertaining. They'd have to stop short of asking for actual murder, of course, but Cordelia could ask her suitors to humiliate themselves, maybe draw a little blood, then scornfully reject them all. Instead, the two of them could—

Jenny firmly stamped on that mental image. Malice had no place in the bedroom, and Cordelia was too young anyway.

'… the best act ever.' Cordelia finished, then smiled brightly at Willow. 'So don't worry about being humiliated in public.'

Buffy patted Willow reassuringly, then shot a glare at Cordelia, who frowned back, apparently puzzled.

Xander sighed. 'Cordy.'

'What?' she muttered, still looking confused. 'Oh, um. Everyone will be looking at me; they won't notice wh—, if you stumble over the words.'

Willow glanced at Xander, suspicion flickering in her eyes, but of what? He wasn't the one—

Of course! Cordelia wouldn't have been so sensitive to Xander's mild reproof unless they were a lot closer than they seemed. Everyone except Xander knew about Willow's crush on him; she must be jealous, perhaps not without reason. If Cordelia was quietly pursuing Xander, that would explain quite a bit.

'This is a library,' Jenny said quickly. Cordelia might be deliberately twisting the knife in her rival, or she might be genuinely oblivious, but either way Willow was hurting. 'I'm sure Mr Giles has plenty of helpful books. Once we install this system, you'll be able to find them.'

Giles sniffed. 'I have always found card catalogues perfectly satisfactory.'

'People used to find candles perfectly satisfactory,' Fritz said scornfully. 'Then Edison invented electricity. Once you've gone digital, you won't want to go back.'

'Not Edison,' Dave corrected. 'Faraday, though electricity—'

'Card catalogues?' Jenny said sceptically, before Dave could digress. 'Don't you want students to use the library.'

'Of course not,' Xander said jokingly, glancing sideways at the stacks. 'They turn the corners down, and leave fingerprints on the pages. Right, Giles?'

He smiled back. 'There are a few students who understand how to treat books.'

'Who needs them?' Fritz asked. 'The printed page is obsolete. Information isn't bound up any more. It's free. The only reality is virtual. If you're not jacked in, you're not alive.'

'Thank you, Fritz, for making us all sound like crazy people,' Jenny said, before he could completely discredit her. 'But he does have a point. You know, for the last two years more e-mail has been sent than regular mail. More digital information has gone across phones lines than regular conversation.'

'A fact,' Giles said firmly, 'I regard with genuine horror.'

Which would be why she'd been able to penetrate his cover story so easily. He had no idea how effective computers could be, or how they interacted with magic.

Supposedly, Rupert Giles was the former curator of a minor British museum, but he'd never given a clear explanation of why he'd left, and he'd brought a few thousand books with him, none of which were in the card catalogue. Out of simple curiosity Jenny had sneaked into the snacks, expecting to find academic journals, and perhaps some porn.

Instead, she'd found a treasure trove of esoterica. The Kybalion and the Sefer Yetzirah were commonplace enough, though not normally stocked by school libraries, but Giles also had a complete edition of Dramius, the unexpurgated Liber Magiarum Cascarum, and the fifth Annal of Celephais, all books known only by rumour in her circles, and that was on just one bookcase.

Jenny had immediately made a surreptitious copy of Rupert's resume, then gone home and started checking it online, only for her computer to crash. After the third attempt, she'd checked the log files, and found further proof that he was deeply involved in the occult. Every single institution he'd worked at since getting his M.A was screened by a banality glamour.

Fifty years ago, that would have been enough to deflect any investigation, but computers had changed all that. Such spells worked on all active observers, even the simplest animals, but couldn't touch passive observers. Photographs and the like inherited the unnoticeablity of their subject, if the Brenglan protocols were used, so they didn't provide a loophole.

Computers did. With slightly less brainpower than the average aunt, they currently fell right on the borderline, so they crashed in a very distinctive way. With the log file evidence, Jenny had quickly been able to identify the specific spell used as a high powered anti-demon cloak, then write a tuned filter utility to shield her system.

After that, it had been trivial to hack into the British tax department's computers via a chain of proxies, then remote-cast an Akashic bridge, letting her tap into the paper files. Five minutes later, she'd downloaded everything the British Government had on every institution where Rupert had ever worked, and every other connected institution, right down to individual memos written by clerks in 1738.

Understanding the data hadn't been so easy, but after several days with a legal dictionary, and a lot of hypothetical questions on an accountancy newsgroup, she'd got the gist. All those nominally independent institutions were actually subsidiaries of the Candle Society, a charity older than any official record, as influential as it was wealthy.

There were only four candidates for a secret society that powerful, and only one of them would use an anti-demon cloaking spell: the fabled council of watchers. Rupert couldn't be the watcher proper, of course; Willow and Buffy were both far too small and weak to be his slayer, and Cordelia had been injured fighting that vampire. He must merely be a junior agent, preparing the ground for the slayer's coming, but he would still have more occult expertise than her entire family.

She couldn't let him know she knew that though, especially not after her failed attempt to crack the council's internal records. Her probe had triggered powerful wide-spectrum defensive spells, which had fried the Brazilian proxy, and nearly got to her. She'd managed to escape by knocking herself unconscious, but she'd been seconds away from a complete mind-wipe.

Rupert would be too junior to know about that incident, but telling anyone belonging to an organisation that justifiably paranoid she knew his secret would be a very bad idea. The fate of Wolfram and Hart demonstrated that. The watchers might kill her instantly, or they might spend a few months interrogating her first; but either way she'd end up dead.

No, it would be much safer to keep quiet. If Rupert was ever desperate enough to ask for her help she could admit her occult knowledge while feigning surprise at his, then ask him what was really going on. If not, the bug planted inside the replacement library computer should tell her enough to avoid disaster.

'… let these dead trees rot,' Fritz said, waving dismissively at the shelves. 'Their time is past. This is the digital age. Books belong in museums.'

Rupert frowned. 'Do you talk to all your teachers like that?'

'You're not a real teacher. You're more like a janitor. In five years, you will be obsolete. Buffy and Cordelia might be impressed by your pretensions, and your accent, but they're airheads. I'm not.'

Buffy glared at Fritz, but Cordelia smiled expectantly.

'More like twenty years,' Dave said. 'Ninety percent of what Mr Giles does is trivial; the rest requires sophisticated natural language processing capabilities. It'd take a Turing equivalent artificial intelligence to replace him fully.''

'How reassuring,' Rupert said flatly, then looked at Jenny. 'You shouldn't be standing up. Sit down, and I'll make you some sweet tea.'

'Sit down?' Jenny echoed. 'But—'

'You're clearly still unwell,' Giles said gently. 'I'm sure you don't normally start daydreaming in the middle of a conversation.'

Cordelia nodded. 'Your eyes keep going all unfocused, and you look terrible.'

'It's the medication,' Jenny explained, half-truthfully. The jury-rigged protocol she was using to keep the inappropriate images under control wasn't precisely a medicine, but it did stop her from thinking about tying Rupert to the table, ripping off his clothes, and rubbing him raw with sandpaper. Then she'd be able to—

Jenny hurriedly forced aside the mental picture of Rupert's abused body. She needed to find a stronger protection against the images the abomination had implanted in her subconscious, preferably one with no side effects. Repeatedly drifting into reverie might be a result of the mental trauma she'd suffered, but she suspected that—

'Ms Calendar,' Rupert said sharply. 'Sit down. Take it easy. You're in no shape to work.'

Her face paling, Jenny collapsed into the chair. She already had sat down, and she didn't remember standing back up. That could not be good.

Jenny focused on the sound of her own breathing, beginning a calming mediation recommended by a Nepalese website. She couldn't quite remember what Rupert had said to panic her, but the exact words scarcely mattered. Whatever Rupert had said, he had meant no harm, and yet he had set her heart racing. The mental trauma the abomination had inflicted on her must be even more severe than she had thought.

'Don't worry,' Cordelia added, smiling brightly, then looked at Rupert. 'The word is the new principal's a control freak.'

'He'll never know,' Rupert said, then looked scornfully back at Fritz.. 'You have been taking advantage of a sick woman. Do you think that's smart?'

'I haven't,' Fritz said, shrinking back under Rupert's icy glare. 'I didn't realise.'

Dave edged away from his friend. 'Um, sorry?'

'Thanks a lot,' Fritz muttered, then swallowed nervously. 'Mr Giles, you're only a librarian. Maybe it's different in England, but here—'

'Silence, boy,' Rupert snapped, then looked at Jenny, 'Would you mind?'

'Go ahead,' Jenny said, smiling. The boy needed disciplining, though unfortunately Rupert could only use words. If only he could yank Fritz's pants down, and whip him until he bled, then rub—

—but she couldn't afford to let herself think about that scenario. The magical safeguards she'd wrapped round her mind should knock her out if she succumbed to temptation and tried to get physical, but that wouldn't stop the perverse images burning themselves into her mind. If she spent too long dwelling on the twisted pleasures the abomination had shown her, she would never be able to rid herself of them.

That was why she'd had to leave Fritz to Rupert. She wasn't jealous of her prerogatives, of course. Only third-rate teachers acted like that, hoarding every scrap of authority they could muster. Petty tyrants of the classroom, they revelled in their power over their unfortunate pupils, systematically crushing their spirits until they were as miserable as the teachers themselves, not out of any great malice but simply to distract themselves from recognition of their own incompetence.

Jenny was determined never to sink to those depths, but still, Fritz was her responsibility. She should have handled him better. If only she could put him on a leash, maybe stick a bit in his mouth, something with spikes, then he'd learn proper respect. She'd be able to ride him round the school, raking her spurs down his thighs at every corner, and let the best behaved children amuse themselves with him during lessons. If they were very good, they could join her after school, when—

Teeth gritted, Jenny slowly forced the depraved images from her mind, then frowned. Even thinking about …. certain matters was enough to inflame her mental scars; she'd never be able to keep a class properly attentive. Coming to work today had been a mistake. What had she been thinking?

Then again, had it actually been her thinking? She could vividly remember arguing with her uncle, and arriving at school, full of confidence in her improvised defences, but what had happened in between? Those memories seemed … insubstantial.

Jenny smiled. If she couldn't remember what had happened, it couldn't be important. There was no way anything could be tampering with her memories, no way at all.

'—Ms Calendar's condition will not be mentioned,' Rupert said. 'Is that clear?'

'Yes,' Fritz said, 'but—'

Buffy gently pulled him from his chair, then ushered him out through the library doors.

Jenny nodded absently, satisfied with her solution. Being sent to the principal would only embarrass Fritz; being dragged there by a girl would mortify him, just as he deserved.

As the doors swung closed Rupert turned to face Jenny. 'Is this skimming really necessary?'

'That's scanning,' Jenny corrected him, 'and the money has already been spent.'

'An expensive procedure, I believe,' Cordelia said tentatively.

'It cost just over $60,000, according to the schools accounts. Came out of the library's budget.'

Rupert frowned. 'They paid out before the work was done?'

'Officially, the work's already been done,' Cordelia said. 'Right, Ms Calender?'

'But that's fraud,' Willow said.

Cordelia shrugged. 'My dad says it happens a lot. He tried to get a contract with this school once, but he decided the arrangement fees were excessive.'

'Do you mean bribes?' Dave asked, radiating honest curiosity. 'I wonder if we could find out who—'

'Not legally,' Jenny said, before Dave could incriminate himself, 'and I cannot condone hacking.'

She had tried to find out herself, once she'd realised the fraud was more than just staffroom gossip, but her investigation had dead-ended..The bank accounts of the supposed contractors looked perfectly normal, and the company's owners were a pair of college graduates with no traceable connections.

After three hours, Jenny had decided to leave the crime solving to the professionals, and sent an anonymous tip to the FBI. It wasn't as if Angelus might be responsible.

'I do know a couple of accountants,' Rupert said slowly. 'They may be able to discover who stole money from my library, but not today.'

They certainly would be able to, if Rupert was a junior watcher. The world had had a very convincing demonstration of that this last month.

'Today, Ms Calendar,' Rupert said, 'we've got to keep you out of the classroom. You can stay here to supervise this … exercise. Cordelia, did you check the books?'

'What for?' Willow asked.

'Some of these books require special handling,' Cordelia said patiently, 'and yes, I checked them.'

Dave smiled. 'Don't worry, Mr Giles. Nothing bad is going to happen.'

Jenny nodded, smiling broadly. She'd suffered a couple of minor flashbacks to the the abomination induced visions, but nothing serious, and she'd been able to turn that misfortune to her advantage. Now she could just sit back and relax while the children did all the work. Life didn't get much better.

That evening, as the sun set, Jenny ducked into a shadowed doorway, closely followed by her uncle.

'OK,' she said, passing him the binoculars, 'see that house three blocks down, with the red roof? Angelus lives next door to there.. What do you suggest we do now?'

'Kill him,' Enyos said. 'We cannot permit him to ally with that abomination. Together, they would—'

'How?' Jenny asked. 'You any good with a crossbow?'

'No,' Enyos admitted. 'I didn't know he would need killing. You've been studying magic.'

'I can only do subtle magics. While I do know the theory behind combat magic,I don't enough raw power to use it. I never expected to need to.'

Theoretically, if she'd spent hours every day in mental exercise for several years, she would have become strong enough to throw a fireball, but she'd need a few days to recover afterwards, making it a skill of very limited use. The subtle magics were much more practical, for her. With just a few minor enchantments murmured over her computer, five times a day for a year, she'd been able to raise the clock speed, RAM, and hard disc size over a hundred-fold, using barely enough power to float a feather.

'We could curse him?' Enyos suggested hopefully, lowering the binoculars.

'You know better than that. We can't curse him twice.'

'We can,' Enyos said. 'We could use—'

'If we curse him,' Jenny said firmly, 'without good reason, we'll be doing black magic, on a vampire. That is not safe.'

'We do have good reason.'

'Not good enough. We have already cursed him for his crimes against us, and he has never harmed us since.'

Enyos sighed. 'You're right, of course. I was just hoping …'

Jenny nodded sympathetically. 'It would be so much simpler if we could'

Simple, but not safe. Magic was too dangerous to use casually.

'Fire!' Enyos shouted. 'We can set that house on fire tomorrow, and drive him out into the sunlight.'

Jenny suppressed a smile. As long as her uncle kept coming up with bad ideas, she could simply keep shooting them down, much easier than trying to convince Angelus was on their side now.

'Two problems,' she said. 'He could escape into the sewers, and there hasn't been any sunlight here all month.'

'That's … unusual. It must be his fault. He must have use some vile and depraved ritual to bend the weather to his will. Forty nubile maidens, stripped naked and tied up with barbed wire, so that …'

Jenny smiled, picturing the scene. Fresh blood oozing from a thousand cuts over virginal skin, Angelus carving forbidden runes into taut flesh with a thorn clamped between his lips, the delicious screams of the sacrifices—

Scowling, Jenny pushed aside the images, then looked at her uncle.

He leered back at her, his gaze unwavering, and slipped his left hand towards his pants.

Jenny slapped him.

He stepped backwards, rubbing his cheek. 'Thanks,' he muttered, 'that was—'

'Don't think about it,' Jenny said quickly. 'You had many flashbacks?'

'That was the fourth.' Enyos admitted. 'You?'

'The third,' Jenny said, then hesitated. 'It didn't look like a flashback though. Your eyes were too sharp.'

'Possession?' Enyos smiled scornfully. 'That's impossible. We've taken precautions.'

Jenny looked meaningfully down at his left hand, now fumbling with the zip.

Frowning, Enyos looked downwards, then abruptly snatched his hand away, muttering shocked apologies.

'What happened yesterday morning was impossible, but that abomination managed it.'

'Actually,' Enyos said, 'I found a reference today listing the creatures that can: the thrice-seven, the thirteen, the seven, the four, the two that are one, the one that is three, and the one unnumbered.'

'Well, the last two are obvious,' Jenny said, 'so the first has to be the major arcana, but the rest …

Weren't there any names?'

Enyos shrugged. 'It was scribbled in the margins of that copy of Omskirk's monograph your great aunt found in England.'

Jenny sighed.'And you're sure it wasn't just random scribbling?'

'After yesterday,' Enyos said, 'that would be too much to hope for.'

'Then you should know better. Do you really think any precautions we can take would hold up against the fallen tower, the dark sun…the other one?'

'I'm not—' Enyos began hotly, then hesitated, frowning. 'I though I had a good reason why we were safe, but I can't remember it.'

He hesitated, his eyes closed in concentration.'There's a lot I can't remember; whole hours that are blank.'

Jenny nodded thoughtfully, trying to think back. She'd gone into work that morning, met Dave and Fritz in the computer room, and then—

Blankness. Complete blankness. Between that moment and reaching the alley, there was only void.

'Me too,' Jenny mumbled, sinking to the ground. 'Me too.'

There was something vile nibbling at the foundations of her mind, something that could edit her memories as it pleased, perhaps even control her body at time, and there was nothing she could do about it.

'It must be playing with us,' Enyos said, absent-minded raising the binoculars. 'With the power it's shown, it could rip our minds to shreds in seconds.'

'Of course it's playing with us,' Jenny said, staring at her hands. 'It's evil. That's what evil does.'

How had she really spent her day? Teaching, or following the perverted agenda of that abomination?

'Now we can't even trust our own memories,' Enyos said, ignoring her. 'We might have had this conversation a dozen times already.'

'We might have done anything,' Jenny said. 'We'll never know.'

'There's only one thing we can do,' Enyos said, then frowned. 'What's that girl doing.'

'It's probably Cordelia.' .Jenny held her hand out for the binoculars. 'You were saying?'

'Um, the only thing we can do for my aunt now is pray,' Enyos said, squinting into the distance. 'Who's Cordelia?'

'That's her,' Jenny said, peering through the binoculars. 'She's the one who's been giving Angelus instructions.'

'But she's so young. Magic?'

'Blackmail,' Jenny said. 'She's got connections.'

'You never mentioned this.'

'I wanted to find out who's behind her first.'

Enyos sighed. 'We're family. We don't work alone.'

Which hadn't stopped them ordering Jenny to this town, alone.

'Well,' she said, smiling, 'now you're here, we can follow him together. It'll be so much easier with your help,'

Enyos swallowed nervously, then nodded. 'I was following him before you were born.'

'The streets were cleaner last time I did this,' Enyos said ten minutes later, peeling a wad of chewing gum off his shoe. 'Where's he going now?'

Jenny glanced through the binoculars.

'It looks like he's just turned down Dunwich. There's a cemetery at the other end.

'Then we can take this alley,' Enyos said, pointing to the left. 'If we hide in the cemetery before he gets there, we'll be less conspicuous, and cleaner.'

'Uncle,' Jenny began, but he ignored her, striding briskly off.

Jenny sighed. The alley was overshadowed by tall walls, studded with recessed doorways, the perfect place for an ambush, but her uncle hadn't thought about that. He was still acting as if Angelus was the only thing he need fear.

Still, she couldn't hang back while her uncle walked blithely into danger. If he was injured, her family would never forgive her.

'Uncle,' she said, hurrying to catch up, 'this isn't safe.'

'Nonsense. Angelus didn't come this way.'

'It's not him I'm worried about.'

'It should be. These other creatures you claim are here, they are not our concern. Ignore them.'

'Foolish humans,' something whispered, high above.

'You hear that?' Jenny said, grabbing her uncle's arm.

He nodded. 'Perhaps we should—'

A soft thump, behind them.

Warily, Jenny turned to face it, then stared.

Above the waist, it looked almost human, apart from the eyes, and the bony spikes; below the waist it had tentacles where its legs should be, four of them, It had to be a demon, the first she'd ever seen.

It might also be the last. The creature was standing between them and the main street, so they couldn't escape that way. The cemetery was in the opposite direction, but the demon might be a necromancer; the online databases said many were, so that wasn't an option either, and only a slayer could hope to fight a demon.

'Kneel, slaves,' the demon said. 'Kneel before your lord and master.'

'Harm us, and we will curse you,' Enyos said, his voice unsteady, 'just as we cursed Angelus.'

'Who?' the demon muttered, then shrugged. 'I like slaves with spirit. They are so much more fun to break.'

'I said, we will curse you.'

'Such delightful impudence,' the demon said, 'but you will learn. With knife and whip I shall teach you both respect, until you willingly kneel before me, and beg to serve as I decree.'

'Never,' Jenny said, pulling out her cross. Under such treatment, the flashbacks would consume her. Even death was better than that.

'Crosses are for vampires,' the demon said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. 'They have no power over me.'

'With my dying breath I shall curse you,' Enyos said, 'and—'

The demon slapped him, the spikes on its knuckles drawing lines of blood across his left cheek.

'Get away from them,' a English voice said, somewhere behind the demon.

'More slaves,' it said. 'What fun I will have, breaking you to my will, what glorious—'

The demon staggered forward, its yelps of pain almost drowning out the faint gunshot.

'You shot me,' it said, turning to reveal a rapidly healing hole in its back.

Seizing the opportunity, Enyos plunged his pocket knife into the demon's back, right between the shoulder blades.

'My back,' the demon screamed, then clapped its hands to its face. 'My eye.'

Jenny leaned on the pocket knife's handle with all her weight, driving it deeper in.

'Surrender,' the Englishman said, his voice unsteady, 'or we will kill you.'

The demon laughed as it casually plucked the knife out, tossing it aside. 'Your bullets sting, slave, but that is all. You cannot kill me with such puny weapons.'

'How about fire?' the Englishman said, sounding closer.

Jenny peered uncertainly into the dark. The demon was blocking her view, but could just make out two dim figures walking towards her, silhouetted against the distant streetlights at the mouth of the alley.

'You want to play with matches?' the demon scoffed. 'How pathetic.'

'Enough,' the man on the left shouted, a bright burst of flame lighting up the alley, 'Burn!'

Dazzled by the sudden light, Jenny blinked uncertainly. One of the two men looked older than her uncle; the other seemed barely out of his teens, an odd combination

'Or run away,' the older man said, squirting something at the demon. 'We're not fussy.'

The demon staggered backwards, charred flesh sloughing off blackened bones..

Gagging, Jenny swiftly turned away, one hand clapped over her mouth.

'It's healing!' the younger man gasped. 'How?'

'You go too far,' the demon said, grabbing Jenny. 'This female shall pay for your insolence.'

Ignoring her struggles, it gripped her left arm firmly, and squeezed, hard.

At first Jenny gritted her teeth against the pain, kicking out at the demon, but then she felt her bones crack, the splintered ends grinding against each other as the demon twisted.

Jenny screamed then, and the demon laughed.

The two Englishmen blasted its tentacles with fire and water

Tossing Jenny aside, the demon charged the men, but they ducked into two doorways, directly opposite each other, then fired from both sides.

Overwhelmed by pain, Jenny sank down, staring numbly at the mangled ruin of her arm.

'This is hopeless,' Enyos said, 'and Angelus needs killing. I'll distract it. You run.'

'No,' Jenny said, but her uncle ignored her, instead charging at the demon.

It didn't even bother to turn round, just wrapped a tentacle round his feet and twitched, sending him flying.

Screaming, he bounced off the left-hand wall, then hit the ground hard, his head banging against the concrete.

Jenny looked at her uncle, clearly unconscious, perhaps even dead, then picked up his knife. Annoying though he was, he was still family. She smiled grimly, remembering a spell she had once read in …. well, it didn't really matter where. What mattered was that the spell was low-powered yet deadly.

The demon reached into both doorways with its tentacles, dragging the men out.

Jenny slashed her thumb with the knife, then drew three runes on the ground in front of her.

As she squeezed out the last drop of blood, completing the final syllable of the forbidden name, the demon turned to face her. 'What?'

Jenny whispered a single word.

The demon screamed.

With her one good hand, Jenny pushed herself upright, accidentally scuffing out the runes.

The demon looked at her, its faced contorted in terror, then began clawing at its face, ripping off entire chunks of flesh, dripping with dark blood, but as fast as it injured itself, it healed.

The two men stepped back, looking uncertainly at Jenny. 'What did you do?'

Still tearing at its own flesh, the demon lurched sideways, over to the wall.

'I'm not sure,' Jenny said. 'It's a spell I saw scribbled in the margin of some old book.'

Which book, she couldn't remember, but it must have been years ago, before she first went online.. She was lucky she hadn't forgotten the spell completely.

Howling in agony, the demon rammed its head into the alley wall, over and over again, until its skull cracked open.

'Miss,' the younger man said, looking as queasy as Jenny felt. 'That might have been slightly excessive.'

Brains oozing down its freshly healed cheeks, the demon tore at its chest with both hands, then reached between its ribs to grab its own heart.

'It killed my uncle,' Jenny said, then hesitated, 'but I didn't want this. Can't you do something.'

The demon ripped its heart to shreds, then collapsed.

'I think it's dead,' he said. 'Can't see any sign of healing. Graham, check on her friend.'

'We should burn the body,' Jenny said, gently cradling her injured arm. 'Who are you two?'

'Your uncle's alive,' Graham said, rolling him over. 'We're British agents.'

'He's alive?' Jenny shouted, joy almost blotting out the pain. 'We need an ambulance.'

'Jones,' the young man snapped. 'We're supposed to be undercover.'

'How were you planning to explain our timely arrival, or why we were armed with fire and acid?'

While the young man struggled for a reply, Graham smiled at Jenny. 'Matthew is a graduate trainee; no real world experience.'

'Either of you got a cell phone?' Jenny asked, then frowned. 'Did you just say you were spies?'

Matthew nodded. 'Graham did, without consulting me, his manager, as required by our operating protocols.'

'Matthew,' Graham said, pulling out a cell phone, 'do you really think this is the time to stand on procedure? I spent—'

'—ten years in the navy,' Matthew finished. 'You keep saying, but I'm pretty sure naval officers are still expected to comply with regulations, even in the special operations squadrons.'

Jenny smiled wanly. Real spies would never blurt out their secrets like that. They wouldn't even pretend to; no one would believe them. Whoever these two really were, nothing they said could be taken at face value.

'One broken arm, one head injury,' Graham said, then put the phone away..'Were you saying something?'

Matthew sighed. 'Destroy the body, before the ambulance gets here.'

'Why were you following me, anyway?' Jenny asked, wondering what excuse they would come up with.

'You fitted our profile,' Graham said, 'and you were clearly following someone. Pass me that blowtorch, Matthew; it'll be safer than the acid.'

'What profile?'

'Officially, that's top secret,' Matthew said, handing Graham the blowtorch, 'but apparently that no longer matters.'

Graham nodded. 'Jenny got here before the rush. Her people must have sources we don't.'

Flattering, but she wasn't fooled.

'I see,' Matthew said, his eyes widening, 'but why didn't you explain back at base?'

'I didn't know we'd have this opportunity,' Graham said, setting the demon corpse on fire 'The ambulance should be here soon.'

'Sources?' Jenny said, trying to sound innocent. 'I'm only a teacher.'

'We've checked your background,' Matthew said. 'Teaching is just your cover.'

Graham nodded. 'You're definitely in the business, but you're not professionals. We are.'

On the edge of hearing, a siren sounded.

Matthew smiled. 'But this is hardly a safe place to discuss such matters. How's Saturday for you?'

'I'll be free all morning,' Jenny said sarcastically. 'After then, I'll be marking homework.'

The siren grew louder.

Graham stood back up. 'Ten o'clock, then.. We'll phone at quarter to. You tell us the venue, and we'll meet there.'

'That way, we won't have enough time to set up an ambush,' Matthew added

The ambulance stopped at the end of the alley, its flashing lights painting the walls.

'That'll be your ride,' Graham said, looking down the alley. 'We'd better run. Good luck.'

Jenny watched the two supposed spies run off, then turned to face the approaching paramedics.

'Let me guess?' one said. 'You were mugged by a gang on PCP?'

'They believed that?' Enyos said.

'They seemed to,' Jenny said. 'Half the people in the ER last night had similar stories, suspiciously similar.'

'Impossible,' Enyos snapped, leaning abruptly forward, then winced and sank back into the hospital bed. 'There aren't that many demons in the whole world.'

Jenny straightened his sheets. 'Perhaps Wolfram and Hart have been summoning them.'

Quite why they'd want to, Jenny wasn't sure, but there was plenty of evidence emerging online that they were deeply immersed in black magic.

'Why would they send them here,' Enyos asked sceptically., then sighed. 'Demons are not our concern. These spies, do you believe anything they said?'

'I can't get online until I'm discharged,' Jenny reminded him. 'I've not been able to check there story, but I do think they're professionals.'

'But not spies?'

'Spies don't tell you they're spies,' Jenny said. 'They were armed, and they probably did follow us. They might be British special forces, some kind of anti-demon unit, but that doesn't explain why—'

Enyos sighed. 'Such naivety. They wanted to create confusion, of course. They were too obviously trying to deceive us.'

'Making the truth look like a lie?' Jenny murmured thoughtfully.

'It's obvious you don't play chess,' Enyos said. 'The net effect of their ploy was to sow confusion.'

'A smokescreen,' Jenny said thoughtfully.

Enyos nodded. 'But they wouldn't bother with that if they didn't have some use for us.'

'We already knew that,' Jenny said impatiently. 'That's why they arranged a meeting for Saturday.'

'That could be a trap,' Enyos said. 'If they have enough men, they could cover all the places you might pick, but you still need to talk to them. They might be working for Angelus.'

'Wouldn't Giles be more likely?'

'The fight could have been staged,' Enyos explained, 'but to do that they'd need to know where we were going.'

'Which would mean Angelus was involved.'

'Not just involved, in charge.' Enyos hesitated. 'If I'm right, we might need to kill those men to get to Angelus, but they're human. I—'

'Angelus could have been set up too,' Jenny pointed out. 'If they told him someone was waiting to meet him in that graveyard, it would be—'

'Only a fool would try that,' Enyos said hotly. 'Angelus would kill anyone who dared seek to control him. If that fight was staged, those men were working for Angelus, though they might not know who their true master is. That's why you need to talk to them.'

'You want me to find out how much they know, and what they want from us?' Jenny summarised.

Enyos was overestimating Angelus again, but talking to the spies was a sensible idea, provided she could be sure they wouldn't use the opportunity to kidnap her. 'What about my safety?'

'Pick somewhere public, with lots of entrances. Don't go by the straightest route. Sit with your back to the wall, well away from any windows. Don't eat or drink anything unless it comes in a sealed packet, or they're having it too. If they bring you drinks, toss a coin. They might be able to predict which one you'll pick; they can't predict which way the coin will fall.'

'You learnt that playing chess too?' Jenny asked sceptically.

'It teaches you how to think,' Enyos said. 'When did they say you'd be discharged?'

'Thursday afternoon.'

'Then this is what we need to do.'

Jenny shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable.

'Are you sure you should be back at work?' Dave asked. 'You're still in a sling.'

Jenny smiled. 'Have you met our new principal yet?'

Snyder hadn't actually ordered her back to work when he'd visited, but he had dropped several heavy hints, in between helping himself to her get-well chocolates.

'He made you?' Dave said, scowling, then looked at Fritz. 'We should ask—'

'Where did they find him?' Fritz asked, cutting his friend off.

'He's not shown me his resume,' which hadn't stopped her reading it. Snyder did have some excuses for his behaviour, very slender excuses, but she couldn't tell the children about those incidents. Her job would be toast.

'He doesn't know much about people,' Dave said, his voice stilted. 'Does he know anything about computers?'

'He knows how to turn them on.'

Dave smiled liked a torturer contemplating a fresh victim, their unmarked skin so rich in possibilities. The only thing sweeter than that first incision was when, their minds broken and reforged, they begged to serve—

Gritting her teeth, Jenny shoved the perverse imagery away. She still hadn't found a permanent solution, only stopgaps that didn't quite work. If she didn't come up with something soon, she might have to resort to desperate measures.

'This is a puzzle,' Buffy said, following Willow into the classroom. 'No, wait, I'm good at these. Does it involve a midget and a block of ice?'

'I met him online,' Willow said patiently, pointing at the computers. 'Ms Calender? What are you doing here? Not that—'

Dave glanced up. 'Apparently, the new principal insisted.'

'But she's got a broken arm,' Buffy said, then frowned. 'How did you break it, anyway?'

'I was mugged by a gang on PCP.'

Buffy and Willow both stared at Jenny. 'Why didn't they kill you?' Willow asked.

'They started fighting each other,' Jenny said smoothly, repeating the story she'd told the police. 'Buffy, are you supposed to be somewhere?'

'No, I have a free,' Buffy said as the rest of the class filed in, then whispered something to Willow.

Jenny smiled. 'Cool. But this is lab time, so lets make it a nice short visit, okay?'

Buffy nodded absent-mindedly. 'Um, so what's his name? Spill.'

'Ira Gregory O'Lonac,' Willow said. 'His family is Irish.'

Tuning out their inconsequential chatter, Jenny began looking through the activity logs, the real reason she'd agreed to Snyder's request. She needed to know if Willow had been probing the computers she'd installed in the library.

Theoretically, there was no way Willow should have been able to find out anything incriminating. Even if she opened the case and checked inside, which she had never done yet, the actual bug would look like just another computer component, and the data stream was hidden as random noise in the precise timing of routine protocol messages exchanged with an internet site.

Theoretically, that should be enough to give even the professionals pause, but Willow was smart. She'd already cracked most of the security measures Jenny had installed on the school network, measures Jenny herself would have struggled to defeat, and then gone and installed her own security measures, completely blocking all remote access, even by Jenny.

If Willow suspected there was a bug, she would find it.

Hopefully, if she did it would still take Willow a few weeks for her to link the bug with Jenny. She'd asked her family to buy it in one of her regular reports, claiming she intended to bug Angel, and they sent it her by post, which didn't leave much of an electronic trail for Willow to follow.

However, hoping wasn't good enough. Jenny needed certain knowledge, and that meant checking the activity logs, which were …. interesting.

Over the last few days, Fritz and Dave had spent over ninety percent of their time online chatting, a radical change from their normal pattern, —

Jenny gasped as a wave of pain rippled through her arm, then quickly subsided.

Frowning, she tried to remember what she'd been thinking about. Willow, wasn't it?

Judging by the activity logs, Willow had given up on Greece, and was alternating between checking into Rupert's background, and going through Cordelia's father's business records – highly illegal, but no threat to Jenny.

Buffy slipped out of the classroom, closing the door behind her.

Jenny looked round at her students, all busily typing.

It should be safe enough to see what the bug had found so far. It wasn't as if she'd be listening to the raw audio; she had a magically enhanced program running on the website's host server that produced a phonetic transcription, and it didn't produce plain text output either.

A handful of typed commands, and the complete list of all files in one of the server's subdirectories appeared on screen. Anyone hacking into her system, or reading over her shoulder, would see only random gibberish, alphabetically ordered, unless they knew the key. Read the third character from the first file name, the second from the third file name, the fifth from the fourth file name, and so on, and the message would appear.

Jenny smiled, remembering how impressed the amateur steganography mailing list had been with the elegance of her algorithm.

***

Five minutes later, Jenny's eyes widened in silent surprise. Rupert, Cordelia, and Xander were apparently talking about Moloch, the corrupter, or rather they had been, eighty minutes earlier.

The conversation was difficult to follow – many references without context, and ambiguities in the transcription — but three things seemed clear. Moloch had been trapped in one of Giles's books. That book had been scanned, even though Cordelia had hidden it under the library counter. Moloch was now loose on the net.

Jenny still didn't have any answers to her original questions, and the mystery around Cordelia had only deepened, but if what the trio had said was true none of that mattered any longer. Moloch was a demon lord, the corrupter of nations, devourer of souls. His name had been carved in blood and pain across a thousand years of history, and even after he had been chained his disciples had still done great evil in his name.

He would have to be stopped, but how? Rupert loathed computers; he'd have no idea how to adapt the traditional techniques to cyberspace. Jenny did, but she hadn't had any chance to test her theories, and using experimental magic against Moloch would be folly. The two of them would need to work together, despite having no reason to trust each other.

She'd just have to approach Rupert and suggest a partnership. Hopefully, he wouldn't ask any awkward questions, but if he did, so be it. Stopping Moloch was far more important than protecting her secrets.

Jenny absent-mindedly rubbing her arm, soothing away the twinges of pain.

First though, she'd need to check whether that conversation might have been staged to smoke out eavesdroppers. It was, after all, a suspiciously convenient conversation, telling her just enough to force her into action without giving her anything she could use against Giles.

Nor was Rupert the only possible culprit. The supposed British spies might have cracked her code and planted a message as part of some grand scheme. The demon in the net, if there was one, might be planting evidence pointing at Moloch to conceal its true identity. There might be some unknown puppet master, steering her down its desired path.

Caution was definitely called for.

'Ms Calender?'

Jenny casually switched to the desktop as she looked up.

Trent Robney, one of the students from her Wednesday class, was peering nervously round the door:

'Ms Calender,' he repeated. 'You've got to help me.'

'Now?' Jenny said sceptically. 'This is lab time.'

Trent edged into the classroom, a laptop in one hand. 'I've got a report due next period, but this isn't the one I wrote.'

'Someone trying to help you?' Jenny suggested. 'Plug it into that docking station.'

'It's about the Marquis de Sade,' Trent said quietly, setting up his laptop. 'It argues he wouldn't be a suitable role model for a Utopia because he was too prudish.'

All round the classroom, the students looked up from their keyboards.

'Was he?' Jenny asked curiously. The marquis had been dead two hundred years, long enough for popular myth to lose all connection to the truth, and social standards had changed since then.

'The Marquis de Sade,' Fritz said, 'believed sex without pain was like food without taste.'

Trent nodded. 'He liked it kinky. This is beyond kinky. It's … depraved, vile filth. Whoever wrote this, death is too good for them. They deserve … I don't know, something worse. They actually advocate teaching first graders how to rape and torture each other, with live demonstrations by the teacher.'

'First graders?' Dave said. 'No one could really mean that. They're just trying to squick you.'

'No,' Trent said. 'There's too much detail for that. They even describe—'

'I don't think we need the details,' Jenny hastily interrupted; they'd only prompt flashbacks.

Fritz looked at Willow, his smile almost a leer. 'Why not? We might recognise the writing style, and it would be educational.'

Trent scowled at him. 'Very educational, if you want to end up dead. If I thought you wanted to do any of these things, I'd kill you right now, and your own parents would thank me.'

'That the file?' Fritz asked, pointing at the screen. 'You don't seem to have deleted it. I wonder why?'

'I can't,' Trent snapped. 'I've tried everything, but it keeps coming back.'

'Everything?' Willow said sceptically. 'That's not possible.'

'Everything except reformatting the hard drive,' Trent said. 'If I did that I'd have no chance of getting the real report back.'

'You might have to write that off,' Jenny said, moving over to the laptop. 'Let's take a look.'

'Moloch,' Enyos said, that evening in the hospital. 'You sure?'

Jenny hesitated. 'Fairly sure.'

Enyos frowned. 'Supposedly, the best source on him was the elder Pliny's history of the Punic Wars, but—'

'Rupert might have a copy then. I know he's got several of his books.'

'Impressive,' Enyos said, eyebrows raised. 'No one else has got more than one. The rest were all lost when Rome fell.'

'Rupert's library is impressive,' Jenny said. 'I might be able to sneak a—'

'No,' Enyos said. 'He's probably a watcher, and even if he isn't, he's clearly well connected. We don't want to risk provoking him.'

'But we need to know—'

'You've taken enough risks,' Enyos said. 'I'd like to know more, but we don't need to. We—'

'—don't know anything about him,' Jenny pointed out, 'apart from a few vague legends. We need—'

'Jenny,' Enyos snapped, his fingers tightening on the blanket. 'Let me finish. My grandfather had a pre-revolutionary French recension of the medieval Arabic commentary on the now lost early Byzantine translation of the original text. The recension's also lost now, but I can remember the key details.'

Jenny sighed. Relying on fifth hand recollections when the original was within reach was foolish, but her uncle had always been stubborn.

'Moloch,' Enyos said, 'eats the souls of children, then transforms their corpses into undead horrors. After the first Punic war, the watchers cursed him to perpetual imprisonment beneath the ruins of his temple for as long as Rome stood unconquered.'

'Seven centuries later, Rome fell and he escaped,' Jenny said, frowning. Half of what her uncle had said was common knowledge in the on-line occult community, but she'd not heard about his temporary imprisonment before. 'Where'd he go? There's no record of him between Carthage and the ninth century.'

'Doesn't matter,' Enyos said dismissively. 'The important thing is that Moloch needs human souls to fuel his magic. Without them, he grows weak.'

Jenny smiled. 'And he's been trapped in that book for the last five hundred years.'

Enyos nodded. 'Right now, he will be at his weakest, but he is still scarcely less dangerous than Angelus, and he is a necromancer. We must keep the two of them apart.'

'How?' Jenny knew Angel wouldn't voluntarily help Moloch, whatever her uncle thought, but a necromancer could easily break the curse and free Angelus.

'Not by killing him,' Enyos said. 'He doesn't stay dead long. His body was destroyed several times in the first Punic war, but he always reappeared within the month. We don't want him for our enemy.'

'Sounds like we don't want him to notice us at all.'

Enyos nodded, then smiled. 'We need to distract him, and I think I know the perfect candidates.'

'We can't use children,' Jenny objected.

'Of course not. They're too close to your Rupert anyway. No, I meant the supposed British spies. When you meet them tomorrow, dangle Moloch in front of them. They'll have to investigate.'

'Nice plan,' Jenny said sarcastically, 'with just one little flaw: they'll know we set them up.'

'I hadn't thought about that,' Enyos admitted, then rubbed his temple, wincing slightly. 'So that won't be a problem.'

Jenny nodded, satisfied by her uncle's lengthy explanation. 'You really have thought of everything.'

'That's all I can do, stuck here, in this bed,' Enyos said, then hesitated. 'Have you ever thought about how worthless humanity is? Most people fritter away their days in half-hearted pursuit of petty dreams, going nowhere, achieving nothing.'

'Of course,' Jenny said. 'I am a teacher, after all. My students—'.

'Jenny,' Enyos interrupted, staring intently at her. 'Had you ever thought that before this week? Think carefully. Have you never defended your students against the cynics?'

She had, two weeks ago, when Hubert had starting moaning that none of the students cared about anything. Dismissing an entire generation as grey drones was fundamentally wrong, and she had told him so, vigorously defending her students—

—but she agreed with Hubert. She'd realised how pathetic most people were years ago, and every single class she'd taught had only confirmed her views, so why had she argued with him? Something didn't add up.

'You have, haven't you?' Enyos said.

'I have,' Jenny conceded, thinking. If her memories clashed with each other, there were only possible two explanations, and she hadn't been taking drugs.

'Someone's been tampering with my mind,' she said angrily. 'Who? What?'

'Not just yours. I've noticed several … oddities in my own memories.' Her uncle looked down at his hands. 'I don't know who, but there is an obvious possibility.'

'That shadow creature?' Jenny said, after a moment's thought. It had certainly left an imprint on her mind, and she couldn't remember seeing anything else with that power recently, but nor could she trust her memories.

'The shadow creature,' Enyos agreed. 'We know it touched our minds. I think it must have left something behind.'

'A spell?' Jenny said hopefully, but she knew better. Mind-controlling spells could edit individual memories, or implant overriding obsessions; they couldn't rewrite minds wholesale while leaving their victims free enough to spot the contradictions.

'If only.' Enyos picked a notepad off the bedside table. 'I haven't told you the worst.'

'Tell me.'

'After your last visit I realised something was wrong. I spent a few hours meditating on my memories, then decided to jot down some notes, and found this.'

Enyos spat out the last word, glaring at the notebook, then thrust it at Jenny. 'Take a look.'

She began to read it, but stopped after the first five lines. 'This is dated Tuesday, two hours after you were admitted.'

'Yes.'

'But it describes what you just told me about.'

'Exactly. I've worked this out a dozen times, and each time I've been made to forget. I've told you three times before, and each time you've forgotten too.'

'A spell could do that. I found an interesting website recently about ways to make things unmemorable.'

'Interesting,' Enyos said, 'but irrelevant. I never found the notebook before I'd worked out my mind had been tampered with. I always found it at the exact moment when my hopes were highest. That's not coincidence; that's deliberate malice.'

'And that implies intelligence,' Jenny said grimly. 'We've both got something squatting in the back of our minds, and it's playing with us.'

'Cruelly,' Enyos agreed. 'We can't exorcise each other, not when we're both possessed, and it won't let us call for help. We've tried that before, and failed. There's nothing we can do, and they want us to know it.'

'If this notebook is accurate,' Jenny said, spotting a loophole. 'Anything capable of mind control this sophisticated is capable of forcing you to write whatever it wants. We might still have a chance.'

'No. It doesn't matter whether that notebook is a fake, or an accurate record of what's been done to me. Either way, we're dealing with something too powerful to fight.'

Jenny looked at her uncle. 'If you don't think there's anything I can do, why did you bother telling me?'

'I thought … um.. I can't remember.' He scowled. 'It must have made me tell you, to torture you with the knowledge of your helplessness.'

'That makes sense,' Jenny said slowly. 'So, what do we do now? Sit and wait for our memories to be wiped? I'm sure they'll enjoy that.'

'What else can we do? There is no hope for us, none at all.'

***

'Nice place you've picked,' Matthew said, glancing round the food court. 'Not much chance of us being overheard in this racket.'

Three children ran past the table, screaming excitedly.

'And you can't follow me when I leave,' Jenny said, smiling. 'This mall has a dozen different exits.'

He knew that, of course, but showing she'd thought about such things should impress the British spies.

Matthew smiled back. 'We do know where you live.'

'But my home is protected,' Jenny bluffed. 'I'm pretty good at magic.'

'Two curries and a Chinese,' Graham said, putting the food down, then pulling out a seat. 'Not a bad location, for an amateur. That wall behind you is only plasterboard. It won't stop determined eavesdroppers, or guns.'

'What did you want to talk about?' Jenny said, tacitly conceding the point.

Matthew glanced at Graham. 'You seem to know something we don't. We know things you don't. Let's trade.'

Graham nodded. 'You can have the first question.'

'Who are you people?'

'We are agents of a small directorate within British Intelligence,' Graham said, 'set up to counter occult threats. What about you and your uncle?'

'Our family has a long history in the occult. Why are you here?'

Matthew shuffled his seat in, letting an overweight couple squeeze past behind him. 'We shouldn't be. We're headquarters staff. Last month we had over a thousand field agents. On the second of April, we lost contact with every single one of them. Our investigation has led us here. Why are you here?'

'Because the vampire Angelus is here,' Jenny said, pretty sure that wasn't the kind of answer they wanted, 'but I think you're more interested in what happened at the morgue the night before, maybe early on the second, your time. Why are you here?'

Graham scowled. 'Those field agents weren't ours. We paid them, but it seems their orders came from elsewhere. They were only pretending to work for us. What—'

'Why are you telling me this?' Jenny said disbelievingly. If British intelligence had really been tricked that badly, they'd keep it quiet.

'As my assistant pointed out,' Matthew said, carefully stressing the 'assistant', 'everyone who might take advantage already knows. As near as we can tell, those responsible had subverted every major occult intelligent agency on the planet, and most of the interested secret societies too. Now, you owe me two questions. Who is Angelus? What happened at the morgue?'

'Angelus is a vampire my family cursed with a soul,' Jenny said, thinking quickly. If the watchers were even half as powerful as legend suggested, they'd certainly be able to pull off a conspiracy on the scale Graham and Matthew were describing, but she still wasn't convinced spies would tell her about it, unless maybe they had an ulterior motive.

Still, at least one thing was clear. These spies had no connection with Angelus, despite her uncle's suspicions. If there had been a connection, Matthew wouldn't have asked about him, in case she read something in his reactions.

'That night, he fetched the children from the Bronze and showed them to the morgue. He didn't stay himself, but a little later the stars vanished from the sky, and the building was shrouded in unnatural shadows.' Jenny shuddered, remembering. 'There was something vile in the morgue, I'm sure of it, something so vile the very stars hid from it, and the entire earth trembled at its touch. You still haven't said why you're here, specifically.'

'That fits with the satellite photos,' Matthew said. 'We did have checks that were supposed to ensure that all our agents were genuinely ours. To get past those check, six of our headquarters staff must have been in on the conspiracy. All six of them were targeted by Wolfram and Hart that Sunday, and only those six. What children?'

Jenny sipped her coffee, giving herself more time to think. One day, Wolfram and Hart had been just another law firm. The next, they'd been revealed as funders of terrorists and tyrants from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe, thanks to anonymous whistle blowers producing a deluge of incriminating documents. Simultaneously a whispering campaign had started in occult circles, implicating them in the blackest magics.

Wolfram and Hart had struck back, of course. Most of their western operations had been shit down, but they had openly seized control of several third world countries, and there had been a spate of assassinations. Still, they were clearly losing the fight with their unseen enemy, who could only be the watchers, so they wouldn't waste their resources targeting random bureaucrats from an impotent agency. There was only one possible conclusion: the six people who had subverted British Intelligence must have been watchers.

'There are a few children at my school with—' Jenny paused as a young couple walked past '—unusual interests. They're all spend a lot of time with someone I'm pretty is a watcher. He was in the morgue that night too. I—'

'Back up a step,' Graham said. 'What else happened at the morgue?'

'When the stars came back, I fled. There were a lot of zombies going the other way. The next morning, someone had warded the entire building. I didn't recognise the symbol, but I could feel its benign aura from a hundred yards away.' Jenny smiled. 'Now, I believe I get two questions. How did you link Wolfram and Hart to Sunnydale? How much do you know about the watchers.'

'We thought they were a myth,' Matthew said sourly. 'Everything our field agents told us confirmed that, but it was all a lie Our current assessment is that they had subverted every other major occult agency, reducing all of us to mere fronts for them, though we don't know why they showed their hand. With the amount of influence they've shown, they could easily have crippled Wolfram and Hart without giving us a clue they existed.'

Graham nodded. 'And their people vanished a couple of days before they took Wolfram and Hart down. We're missing most of the jigsaw.'

He smiled appreciatively as three teenage girls sauntered past. 'We did 'obtain' high-level documents from Wolfram and Hart's London office, including a recording of an emergency meeting of their executive committee. It seems one of their tame judges had issued an injunction against your school librarian, a suspected watcher. The response took them completely by surprise. Wolfram and Hart had apparently categorised the watchers as institutionally sclerotic, no longer capable of effective action. They were proved badly wrong.'

'So,' Matthew said, 'tell us about Rupert Giles.'

'You know his name?' Jenny said, not bothering to hide her surprise. 'Um, I bugged his computer this—'

She stiffened. 'I think I just saw one of the children involved up there.'

'The balcony?' Graham asked, not looking behind him.

Jenny nodded. She couldn't see them now, but she was almost certain that it was Buffy and Cordelia she'd spotted.

'That's too far for lip reading,' Graham said, 'and mikes would be noticeable. If they come closer, start talking about your computer. You were saying?'

'I only installed the bug this week, but I've already heard some interesting conversations. It seems Moloch is possessing the internet. You aren't the only spies in Sunnydale, are you?' If the trail was as obvious as they claimed, other people would have followed it, and they had mentioned 'the rush'.

'We aren't,' Matthew said, frowning.. 'Moloch is just an Hebrew word meaning evil king, approximately. There could be dozens of demons with that name. Do you know which one?'

'A lot of recent Sunnydale newcomers have suspicious backgrounds,' Graham added, 'unexplained income, no motive for moving. Most didn't arrive until mid-April, but about ten percent turned up in March. You and Rupert Giles are the only one we found who arrived earlier, which made you a person of particular interest. The Tsarists were following you yesterday.'

'The who?' Jenny asked, then winced at her mistake. 'Rupert was definitely talking about the Moloch, demon lord of Carthage.'

'The Tsarists,' Graham repeated. 'After the October revolution, parts of the Tsar's intelligence services went rogue. Most of them didn't last long, but the occult division were able to tap into … alternative sources of funding. These days, they're a typical secret society, based out of Helsinki. Two of them are sitting five tables behind me. How can the net be possessed? It's just an abstraction.'

'Technically,' Jenny said, 'he's possessing every computer ever connected to the net. Same difference. There have been imps online for years, corrupting files in transit, trolling on usenet, sending out spam, but Moloch is the first true demon, as far as I know. Any other spies here?'

Up on the balcony, a child screamed.

'Don't react,' Graham said sharply. 'I've spotted three Brazilians, and one of the wild cards.. How dangerous is Moloch?'

'Very,' Jenny said, 'and Rupert doesn't understand computers. I should—'

A body fell from the balcony, Cordelia.

Jenny stood up, taking half a step towards her pupil.

Cordelia landed on her feet, then stumbled sideways, falling off the table.

'Stay here,' Graham said, moving to block Jenny. 'You don't want to show your hand.'

Another body fell from the balcony, a teenage male—

—and was dust.

'Good shooting,' Matthew said clinically. 'I think that was the bookshop owner.'

'You'll notice none of the civilians have reacted,' Graham added, frowning slightly. 'People in this town seem to be blind, deaf, and dumb.'

Buffy appeared at the balcony rail, shouting something down at Cordelia.

'The girl who fell,' Graham said, 'does she have any training? She took that fall pretty well.'

'She does cheer leading,' Jenny said, 'I should go and—'

'No,' Matthew said. 'It looks like the incident is over. As professionals, our advice is that involving yourself would seriously compromise your position, and it wouldn't achieve anything useful. Now, where were we?'

***

'You sure this is safe?' Enyos asked.

'Yes,' Jenny said patiently., fingers poised over the keyboard. 'I'm sure. That modem's been triply blessed and warded seven different ways. No demon can get through there.'

'Moloch was worshipped as a god.'

'It takes more than worship to make a god.'

'And you got this idea from the spies yesterday?'

Jenny half turned to face her uncle. 'We came up with it together. Matthew knows his way round a computer.' It had been a long conversation, but very productive.

'You trust them too much. Remember what they are.'

'I did,' Jenny said, turning back to the keyboard. 'That's why I made it very clear that cooperation was in their best interests.'

'Not good enough,' Enyos said. 'They might decide they've got a better idea.'

Jenny pressed enter, launching the tracker. 'Neither of them know enough about magic and only a idiot would play politics with Moloch.'

'True,' Enyos conceded. 'You're certain he won't spot you?'

'Yes,' Jenny said. 'I've explained all this. It's a completely passive system.'

The entire internet was under Moloch's shadow, but he wouldn't be spread evenly over it. He was used to being physical, with just one body, so he would replicate that in cyberspace, concentrating his presence on a few servers, close to whatever he was interested in.

In effect, Moloch had become a locus of malign energies, moving through the net, and leaving a trail of disruption behind him. Spotting that trail amid the net's normal chaos wasn't easy, but after a night of coding she'd kludged together a program that should be able to cross-correlate all the virus and net traffic monitoring sites, revealing Moloch's location.

'Then why do you need to protect the modem?' Enyos asked, a note of triumph in his voice. 'Don't you trust your own safeguards?'

'That's to keep him out of my computer. Nothing to do with the tracker at all.'

Enyos scowled. 'What are you going to do when you find Moloch anyway?' he asked, abandoning his objections. 'You can't hope to fight him.'

'I'm going to tell Rupert where he is,' Jenny said. 'The more information I have when we talk, the better.'

'Let the spies talk to him. Angelus should be our sole concern. We don't want to get dragged into—'

Enyos froze, his brow furrowed in thought, then he smiled. 'Of course! They are trying to recruit us.'

'Matthew and Graham? But we're not British.'

'That won't bother them. They need new field agents. We're ideal candidates.'

Jenny leaned back in her chair, thinking. 'They know we've got other loyalties though.. They've already been burnt that way once.'

Enyos shrugged. 'It's different if you know. You can plan for it. They'll offer us some kind of mutually beneficent alliance, with plenty of safeguards against betrayal, but we'll be the junior partners.'

'But why be so open about their problems. Doesn't that weaken their negotiating position?'

'They have to deal honestly with us. If we found out we'd been deceived after we joined forces we'd just break the alliance.'

'Assuming you're right, would that be a bad thing? You've seen the omens. There are dark times ahead. We'll need all the protection we can get,' Jenny said thoughtfully.

'We have each other,' Enyos said. 'We have the Kalderash. We need nothing else.'

'So we don't need anyone to help us with Moloch?' Jenny asked sceptically. 'I don't think so.'

She didn't want to join up with the British specifically, but joining up with someone made sense, and no one else was talking to them. If her uncle didn't come up with some good objections, she'd have to seriously consider the possibility

The computer beeped twice, signalling it had found a trail.

'Leave the world saving to the watchers.'

'I'm not suggesting we get involved in that,' Jenny said, scanning the results. 'but we might need allies to watch our back while we wait the dark times out.. It looks like Moloch's primary focus is here in Sunnydale, with secondary foci in Rome, Washington, and Beijing.'

Enyos frowned. 'Why here?'

'Probably for the same reason Angelus came here, and Rupert,' whatever that was. 'I should be able to narrow the loca—'

Mid-word, Jenny stopped and sniffed. 'Something's burning. You didn't leave the toaster switched on again?'

'No,' Enyos said firmly. 'It's somewhere in here. You've got a lot of things plugged in these two sockets. Short circuit?'

Jenny peered under the desk, and groaned. 'It's the modem!'

She reached out to unplug it, then pulled her hand back. The air above it was searingly hot, and a thin trickle of smoke was just beginning to rise from the back.

'I'll go get some water,' Enyos said, heading for the kitchen.

'No,' Jenny said quickly, kneeling down. 'Not for an electrical fire. There's a bucket of sand under the sink.'

One hand over her mouth and nose, Jenny crawled under the shelf the modem was on and yanked out all the plugs, then hurriedly backed away.

The smoke was thicker now, and the modem's case was rippling in the heat, half-molten.

Enyos tossed Jenny the oven gloves. 'Throw it in the middle of the floor, and I'll dump the sand on it.'

The modem collapsed, rivulets of molten plastic pouring across the shelf and dripping onto the floor.

'Too late for that,' Jenny said as her uncle rushed over. 'This isn't natural. There's nothing in a modem that could get that hot.'

'Moloch?' Enyos suggested, smothering the hot plastic in sand.

'Moloch,' Jenny agreed, 'but how? With all the protections I had on that modem—'

'You underestimated him.' Enyos said. 'What are you going to do now?'

'I don't know,' Jenny admitted, collapsing into the chair. She couldn't get online now, and the computer itself might be compromised, which didn't leave her with many options. 'I just don't know.'

***

'We can't even trust our own memories,' Enyos said, and let the notebook drop. 'We've already had this conversation a dozen times at least, maybe many more.

Jenny nodded. As far as she could remember, after the modem had melted down yesterday, she'd cleaned the mess up then spent the rest of the day watching heart-warming films on one of the cable channels.

The notebook Enyos had found after breakfast told a different story. According to that, once the cleaning up was done she'd spent the rest of the day repeating the same conversation with her uncle over and over again.

'It's not just yesterday, either,' Enyos said, slumping down in the chair opposite. 'All our memories of this last week are suspect. We might never know what really happened.'

'I don't want to know,' Jenny said, looking down at her hands. The things tampering with their memories had to have been planted there by the shadow abomination when it defiled their minds with images of the foulest depravities. She could make a pretty good guess at what the spawn of that obscenity would do with her body, and her uncle's, but it was only a guess. She didn't know, not for certain. There was still hope.

Memories flooded into her mind, memories of her and her uncle exploring the limits of human anatomy, and her stomach churned, filling her mouth with vomit.

Horror-struck, Enyos stared at Jenny. 'You shouldn't have said that.'

Jenny swallowed, struggling not to gag. 'Did I have any choice?' she asked bitterly. 'We've been doomed ever since you asked the Tarot card that question.'

'I couldn't have known,' Enyos said plaintively. 'There's no way I could have known.'

'It's too late now, anyway.' All the soap in the world would not get her clean again. 'There's nothing we can do, nothing at all.'

'We—' Enyos began, then paused. 'There is one thing we can do.'

'What?' Jenny asked, daring to hope.

'We can die,' he said. 'There is power in sacrifice, and death is a great barrier, It might be able to animate our bodies, but our souls should go free.'

'By all the laws of magic we know, they should,' Jenny agreed, 'but we are only dabblers. We have seen this week how little our knowledge is worth.'

'It's a small chance,' Enyos said, pulling out his pocket knife, 'but it's our only chance. I'm going to take it, while I still can.'

Jenny closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands, wishing Angel had never moved to Sunnydale.

Enyos briefly gasped in pain, then there was silence.

A few moments later, Jenny wiped away her tears. If her uncle caught her crying over her ruined modem, he wouldn't be sympathetic, and it was only a modem. It was just that she'd been through so much this last week, she couldn't take much more.

Fortunately, Enyos wasn't there to watch her breakdown. He'd slipped out to the shops for a pint of milk leaving, she noticed with a sigh, a pile of dirty laundry in the chair opposite, covered in tomato sauce. Well, he could pick that up himself.

Smiling weakly, Jenny began getting ready for another working day.

***

Two hours later, Jenny walked down the empty corridor, a sheaf of photocopies in her hands. The freshman class might not deserve a surprise test, but it would keep them quiet while she read the latest bug reports.

'Miss Calendar,' Fritz whispered, 'in here.'

After a quick look round, Jenny spotted the boy lurking in the doorway. 'What's the problem?'

'We need to talk, privately.'

'What about?' Jenny asked warily. Fritz wouldn't be the first student to have a crush on her.

'It's private,' Fritz said. 'You do know what that means?'

'Fritz,' Jenny snapped. 'Apologise, now!'

Fritz grabbed her arm and yanked her into the classroom, then kicked the door shut behind her.

'You better have a very good explanation for this,' Jenny said, pulling away from Fritz. 'You are two seconds from expulsion.'

The boy laughed contemptuously, and Jenny's skin prickled. She knew Fritz's laugh well; she'd heard it often enough as he joked with Dave. That had not been Fritz's laugh.

'Ira has a message for you,' Fritz said. 'Your time has come.'

'What?' Jenny asked, trying to remember everything she knew about possession.. 'Are you—'

'What's my name?'

'Fred,' Jenny began hotly, 'I mean Frank, no, something German, Hans? Andrew? Albert? Bertram?'

Embarrassed, she stumbled to a halt. Forgetting a pupil's name was always awkward. Being caught forgetting it was worse.

The boy smiled. 'Just as Ira promised.'

'You want me to forget your name?'

'Not just my name, everything. Ira is going to reformat your brain and install a new operating system. You will become my sex slave, and you will enjoy it.'

Jenny backed away from him. 'Never.'

'Really?' the boy said confidently. 'How much can you still remember?'

Jenny looked at him, leaning against the, the, the wooden things, a smirk on his lips. OK, whatever he'd done had left a few holes in her conscious memory, but she'd studied magic. She had enough mental strength to overcome this little problem.

First, she needed a central truth. Then, from that foundation she could work outwards, restoring her memories.

'Soon,' the young man said, pulling his shirt off., 'you will be mine, to do with as I please.'

She was Jana of the Kalderash, now called Jenny Calender, who had, who—

Never mind the details. Stick to the basics. Ignore the tempting hunk of flesh in front of her. She was Jana of the Kalderash, now called, called—

The man slipped off his trainers, his every movement full of sensual grace.

She was Jana of the, the—

She was, she was – nothing.


	24. Three Temptations: Power

Xander smiled, and turned the page. All the really juicy bits might be in Latin, but that just meant he got to have fun speculating about what they were, and anyway there were plenty of dictionaries and grammar books here. With their help, he could manage to puzzle out the gist of the Latin, and satisfy his curiosity.

'You were right,' Cordelia said, walking into their secret room.

'I was?' Xander said, hastily closing the book he'd been reading. 'Of course I was right. Um, what about?'

'Martial arts,' she said, snatching the book from his hands. 'The life cycle of the common succubus?'

'We need to know how to recognise them,' Xander said. 'You been attacked again?'

She didn't look hurt, but he was pretty sure she hadn't been wearing that top when she went out. Either she'd found a bargain, or she'd lost more clothes to combat damage.

Cordelia pointed at the bookcase next to the kitchen door. 'Margo left us dozens of books on demon recognition, and yes, I was.'

'Need any first aid?' Xander said, standing up. 'I've been reading about that too,' and not because of the perks. Buffy had slayer healing, but the rest of them didn't, and they all kept getting attacked, particularly Cordelia. As she'd said, they needed someone who could patch them up, and she wasn't the type, however hot she'd look in a nurses uniform.

'Only for my clothes. I ripped my top getting away.' Cordelia said, then sighed. 'I don't know why you bother. All the explicit stuff is in Latin, and you can see better pictures in Playboy any day.'

Playboy wasn't real though. Succubi were. He would never be pounced on by twin nymphomaniac gymnasts, but he might meet a succubus at any time, if he was really unlucky.

Smiling, Xander opened the book to page 217. 'They don't have pictures like that in Playboy.'

Cordelia glanced down at the the full colour plate, a desiccated corpse covered in bite marks, then quickly looked away. 'Succubus victim?'

Xander nodded. Succubi made for pleasant daydreams, but the photos made it very clear the reality was nightmarish.

'Don't you forget it,' Cordelia said. 'So, when do you want to start?'

'Start what?'

'Martial arts,' Cordelia said, as if it should have been obvious. 'I don't think Giles is delaying on purpose …'

'But it's not something he's comfortable about teaching us.' Xander finished, 'and Willow isn't fit enough yet.'

Cordelia scowled. 'She's not trying hard enough. She doesn't really want to learn.'

'Like you didn't?' Xander said, smiling.

'Don't,' Cordelia said sharply, and Xander shrank back in mock terror from her glare. 'Running isn't enough, and we can't wait for Willow.'

'Noticed how it's always her Giles picks for the little errands?' Xander asked. 'You still sure you don't want to find another teacher?'

'Know any who know about vampires and demons?' Cordelia asked. 'The ones in the phone book can only teach us how to fight people, not much use. Either we wait for Giles, or we use the books -- but no magic. We can't trust it.'

'The books it is,' Xander said reluctantly. A human teacher would be much better, but he couldn't afford to pay for lessons, and even Cordelia couldn't hurry Giles much. The books would have to do for now. Anything would be better than nothing.

'So, what do we need? You've been looking at the books.'

'A rolling pin, skipping rope, knitting needle, chair leg, and toy train,' Xander said, straight-faced. 'No, wait, that's for one of the advanced exercises.'

Cordelia sat down, her eyebrows raised. 'You serious?'

'It's some medieval English style, invented by these guys called the Masters of Defence, and adapted by the watchers. It's very, um,' Xander hesitated, searching for the right world.

'Odd?' Cordelia suggested. 'What's the point of that exercise supposed to be?'

'Flexibility, I think.' At least, that was what the Latin proverbs the writer had quoted seemed to mean. 'Pick up a random weapon, use it for a random time, then switch to the next one.'

'Improvisation. Like you might do in a real fight,' Cordelia said. 'Sounds practical.'

'Very,' Xander agreed, 'once you get under the tweed. There's a chapter on using bottles in bar fights — how to pick the best one, how to break them safely, what to do once you've broken them – all in ye old English, but there's also several hundred pages of commentary, with footnotes.'

'Watchers,' Cordelia said, smiling. 'They can make anything dull. Where do we start?'

'Chapter one,' Xander said. 'Basic hand to hand stuff: deflecting blows, taking falls, what to do if you're slammed into a wall.'

Xander hesitated. Cordelia might not like the next bit, but she was going to find out. He'd have to be diplomatic. 'There's a lot of grappling involved. We've got to learn all the joint locks, and how to escape from them. If you don't want to do that with me-'

'Just make sure you don't get confused,' Cordelia said, then muttered something under her breath.

Xander sighed with relief. He'd enjoy all the touching, of course, Cordelia did have a great body, but that was just a perk. The really important thing was learning how to fight properly, and for that he needed Cordelia's cooperation.

'Upstairs, then,' Cordelia said, standing back up. 'You go first.'

* * *

Cordelia stumbled backwards, then tripped, landing on her side.

Sprawled on the next mat, Xander looked at her. 'Two minute break?'

Two minutes wouldn't be enough to recover, the way he felt two days might not be enough, but if Cordelia could keep going so could he.

Her chest heaving, she slowly turned to face him. 'Optimistic, much? Wednesday.'

'Not tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow, you'll be aching all over.' She began pushing herself up off the floor. 'Shower time.'

Her arm wobbled, then folded.

'Once you're not too tired to stand,' Xander suggested, smiling wryly. 'You look--'

'We both look terrible,' Cordelia said wearily. 'Next time, we stop sooner.'

'But the book says we're supposed to do it until we drop. We need to know our limits, and be able to fight even at them.'

'We can work up to that,' Cordelia said firmly. 'You need -- we both need to get in better shape, and read the footnotes next time. You might've missed something.'

'But there're thirty pages-'

'Read them,' Cordelia repeated. 'They might be important.'

Xander looked at her, sweat glistening on her perfect skin, then quickly up at the ceiling.

'Remembered anything else about Moloch?' he asked, changing the subject.

'No.' Cordelia scowled. 'You didn't tell me much.'

So she kept complaining, but that didn't make any sense. 'If I'd known you might be blasted back in time-'

'Remember the hell mouth? Big mystic thing. Makes-'

'Why didn't I think of that?' Xander asked sarcastically, wondering what was bugging Cordelia. 'I'll go and tell Jonathon about this right now, in case he-'

'Jonathon isn't your-' Cordelia began hotly, then cut herself off. 'He was never part of the team.'

Xander looked at Cordelia, her face shadowed by a subtle pain. That explained part of her issues, a very small part. Something had gone wrong between them all in the original future, something that had left Cordelia bitter about his future self not telling her stuff.

'You're not just part of the team,' Xander said, guessing at what she wanted to hear. 'You're my friend. Forget about what future me did; I'd never keep any secrets from you, promise,' he said, then jokingly added, 'Want to know what I did in the bathroom this morning?'

'Were there demons involved?' Cordelia asked, her face unreadable.

'Not real ones.'

Cordelia's lips twitched. 'I'll pass.'

'Malcolm was Moloch,' Xander said, returning the original subject, 'and Ira is acting like Malcolm.'

'Maybe,' Cordelia sighed. 'How much has Willow told you about Ira?'

Xander scowled. 'She keeps saying how great he is, how he understand her, how he's sensitive but strong-'

'Do you know how many girls I've had to listen to, mooning over their boyfriends?' Cordelia asked. 'Too many, and most of them said the exact same thing. Ira might be Moloch; he might just be a conman. Either way, Willow-'

'But we know Moloch's involved. His book was blank.'

'He's out there somewhere,' Cordelia agreed, 'but things are different this time round. We know there's someone else involved.'

'I saw you lock that book in the drawer, and Giles checked-' Xander smiled as realisation hit him. 'We know someone released Moloch deliberately this time. How do you know they didn't last time?'

'Because-' Cordelia hesitated. 'If they did, you never found out about it. Not as simple as it seems, is it?'

'You were right,' Xander conceded, remembering that first private conversation with Cordelia, the day after Margo had sealed the deathgate. He'd said something about how easy her future knowledge would make things and she'd disagreed, vehemently. Her objections had sounded like excuses at the time, but that had been before he'd seen the whole Moloch thing go wrong.

Cordelia smiled. 'Finally.'

Xander smiled back. 'Hey, I'm not used to all this weirdness. You're the expert, like Giles but, um-'

'Better dressed?' Cordelia suggested, slowly clambering to her feet. 'Just remember, this is the hellmouth. We don't get good weirdness.'

She paused, and looked down at him, her face sombre, then shook her head and staggered gingerly away, leaning on the wall every few steps.

Xander thoughtfully watched her go. Something had been troubling Cordelia all month, ever since she'd cut herself off from her old friends, but that couldn't be the reason why. No one would loose sleep over those airheads.

It might be because she'd seen her mother die; he'd felt pretty bad after—

—but thinking about that wouldn't help anything. What mattered was helping Cordelia through her problems. She was his—

His what? She wasn't his friend, exactly. They had too much past for that, some of it in his future, but he was spending more time with her than with Willow now. Frowning, Xander shelved the question.

Whatever she was, he didn't like seeing her hurt. He had to do something.

Xander tentatively tried to stand up, but fell back, his thighs flaring with pain. Cordelia might be used to this level of exertion, with her cheer-leading practice; he wasn't.

Well, it'd be at least twenty minutes before she was out of the shower, judging by Willow, time enough for him to think, and he had a lot to think about.

Closing his eyes, Xander began running over everything Cordelia had said.

* * *

'I wasn't asleep,' Xander said, for the third time. 'I was thinking.'

'Do you normally-' Cordelia began, looking through the peephole. 'There's someone watching.'

'You sure?' Xander asked. 'Remember last week?'

'Wearing plaid was suspicious,' she insisted. 'This guy's staring at our door.'

'Monstra,' Xander said, pointing casually at the wall. Cordelia had made a couple of mistakes, but she was pretty good at spotting vampires, something to do with the way they dressed, and the spells Margo had put on the apartment made it easy to check.

An image formed on the wall where Xander had pointed, showing the street outside. There were a few dozen people out there, scurrying from shop to shop with bags in their hands, but only one of them was looking at the apartment door, a middle aged man in t-shirt and jeans, his hands clasped in front of him.

'In the doorway?' Xander asked. 'He could be waiting for someone.'

'No, then he'd stand where he could look up and down the street.'

Xander nodded, trying to remember the command he'd looked up last time. 'Omnia minus monstra? Omnes minus monstra? Omnes minas monstra?'

The image darkened, unnatural shadows drifting through the air, the malign aura of the hellmouth made visible, but the man remained unchanged. 'He's human, Cordy, and not evil.'

He was definitely watching them though. He hadn't looked away once.

'Not big time evil,' Cordelia agreed, then frowned. 'He's too obvious.'

'Maybe he wants to talk,' Xander suggested. 'He could be a watcher.'

'Maybe,' Cordelia said. 'He's not armed and there are two of us. We'll talk, on our terms.'

'You want to fight him?' Xander asked, surprised. He was still sore all over, and Cordelia wasn't in much better shape.

'No,' Cordelia said, 'I want to bluff him. Think you can manage to look tough?'

'Easy,' Xander said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He could hardly say no, not if he wanted to retain any creditability as a man.

She looked at him thoughtfully. 'I'm not sure about that shirt. It's--'

'You want me to go home and change?' Xander asked sarcastically. 'I think-'

Cordelia smiled. 'You don't need to do that. You've got a full wardrobe upstairs, in the bedroom.'

'I have?' He hadn't even been in that room since they'd bought the place. With Cordelia sleeping there half the time, it would have been too awkward. 'Since when? I haven't brought any-'

'We agreed you needed some here for emergencies, remember,' Cordelia said, 'and it was too good an opportunity to miss.'

'We did? When?' Xander said, then hesitated. 'You've been buying me clothes?'

'Margo paid for them.' Cordelia corrected. 'I just made sure they weren't a century out of date. It's all part of our arrangement with her. I did wonder why you'd put that shirt back on.'

'Oh,' Xander said slowly. 'Um, did you ever write that agreement down?'

At the time, he'd been too busy thinking about the earlier revelations to pay much attention, which might have been a mistake. Discovering that Cordelia was a time traveller who was also possessing Harmony had been quite a shock, even by the standards of the last two months, but now he didn't know what he'd agreed to.

'Of course,' Cordelia said. 'Now, go and change. The left hand wardrobe's yours. The t-shirts are in the middle drawer, on the left-hand side.'

Xander looked at the steep stairs, then smiled. 'I'll just go and tell him to wait, shall I?'

His legs were still aching, and he was pretty sure letting a girl pick his clothes for him was getting into dangerous territory. Cordelia would never want to date him, of course, but that would just mean he got the bad without the good.

'Look at the way he's standing,' she said patiently. 'He's not going anywhere soon. White will lo- look the part. Now, hurry.'

Xander looked at Cordelia, watching him impatiently, then up at the stairs, and sighed. Some arguments, there was no winning.

'Fine,' he said flatly, and began clambering back up the stairs, exaggerating his winces.

'Xander,' Cordelia shouted cheerfully, when he was nearly at the top, 'I owe you one.'

* * *

'You got the wrong size,' Xander said, tugging at the t-shirt. 'This is too tight.'

'It's supposed to be,' Cordelia said, a strange smile on her face as she looked at him. 'Tight is good. Didn't you look in the mirror?'

'Why would I do that,' Xander asked, puzzled.

Cordelia sighed, and turned the door handle. 'Let's go.'

As the door opened, the man smiled and began beckoning them over.

'He wants to talk, all right,' Cordelia said. 'Remember what I said.'

'Keep quiet,' Xander repeated. 'Let you do all the talking, like normal.'

'Because you're so shy and retiring,' Cordelia said. 'No, wait, that's Willow.'

'Ever asked her about Microsoft?' Xander said wryly.

'You see,' Cordelia said, as if she'd scored some point, then looked at the man and tilted her head quizzically.

Xander smiled as the man strolled towards them. Cordelia had just demonstrated why he let her do all the talking, and without even realising it. He could banter with her for hours on end, and he wasn't intimidated by talking to complete strangers, but he never treated conversations like some kind of twisted chess game. Even if he'd wanted to, he wouldn't have known how.

Cordelia did, better than he ever would have guessed. He was used to seeing her cowing people by sheer force of personality, or easing her way with a flash of her father's credit cards, but while that was certainly her preferred approach, she was much smarter than she usually acted, smart enough to be subtle.

'Who are you,' Cordelia asked as the man approached, making sure she got her questions in first. 'Why were you staring at our door?'

'Bill Stevens, private detective,' he said. 'We need to talk.'

'About-'

'About why I've been watching you for the last few days. Come back to my office-'

'Where you can ambush us?' Cordelia said. 'No. We'll talk in the coffee bar.'

Bill glanced at the shop diagonally behind him, one doors down from where he'd been waiting. 'A predictable choice.'

Cordelia shrugged. 'If you could arrange an ambush somewhere like that, you wouldn't need approach us like this.'

'Unsound logic.'

'You-' Cordelia began, but Bill overrode her. 'I spent twenty years in the FBI, girl. I'm a professional; you aren't.'

'Why talk to us?' Xander asked, tossing the plan aside. 'What do you want?'

'Vengeance,' Bill snapped, his face grim. 'They must pay.'

Cordelia frowned. 'We're not-'

'You have backers,' Bill said firmly, 'powerful backers.'

'How would you know?' Cordelia challenged.

'When I'm asked to watch people, I always research them,' Bill said, 'but it's a long story. The coffee bar?'

* * *

Looking round at all the abandoned tables, Xander frowned uneasily. He didn't know how much Bill had slipped the owner to get him to close the shop down, but it must have been a lot, which meant serious business.

Cordelia sipped her coffee. 'What do you know about us?'

'Two things,' Bill said, looking out of the window at the secret apartment's door. 'Firstly, all official records show Cordelia bought your hideout last year, and I do mean all records. When I tracked down Beedon, he eventually told a very different story about how he sold it, and when.'

'So he exaggerated a few details,' Cordelia said dismissively. 'People do that.'

'More than a few,' Bill said. 'He was telling the truth, so the records must have been forged.'

'We didn't do it,' Xander said quickly.

Bill smiled. 'Of course not. No one your age could. Oh, you could have bribed Beedon easily enough, and backdating the actual purchase documents wouldn't have been too difficult, but the records also show that you've been paying all your taxes and utility bills on time, and the banks' own records tally with that. Tampering with those records, without triggering any alarms, would take a serious player.'

That must be something Margo had done, probably with magic, but she was dead now. If Bill was trying to contact her, he was too late, and he'd aimed too high

'And the other thing?' Cordelia prompted.

'I record everything said in my office, for legal reasons. I have to-'

'But you don't tell your clients,' Xander said, cutting off his justifications. 'What did they say?'

'They've got plans for the two of you,' Bill smiled, 'disturbing plans, but were clearly nervous about capturing you. Oh, and none of them were human.'

Xander leaned forwards. 'You know about-'

'-the demons,' Bill interrupted. 'I've known for five years. If only I'd left back then, my Jane would still be alive.'

Bill's hand tightened on the cup, his face contorting with rage. 'They killed her, and played me for a fool. I'll make them pay for that. I'll make them all pay. I'll-'

'Was she your wife?' Cordelia asked, sounding almost sympathetic.

'Begin at the beginning,' Xander added quickly.

Bill took two deep breaths, then nodded. 'The beginning? That'd be when I found the statistical anomaly.'

'How could you miss it?' Cordelia asked. 'The school paper's got its own obituary column.'

'The hellmouth was going through a quiet patch?' Xander suggested, smiling at Cordelia's bluff.

'Hellmouth?' Bill muttered, then looked at Xander. 'I wasn't in that section. I'd decided to run a cross-comparison of declared income with retail expenditure in small towns, excluding the tourist sector, naturally. I thought it would be a good way to identify targets for further investigation.'

'Proud much?' Cordelia asked. 'I'm sure your idea was brilliant. How is it relevant to us?'

Xander half-smiled. Cordelia hadn't understood Bill's explanation either, but she'd never admit to that.

'It's why I retired here, after my wife died. Over ten percent of the economy of this town is black, maybe as much as thirty percent.' Bill looked from Xander to Cordelia, then sighed. 'On average, people here are spending significantly more money than they've officially got, and they're not borrowing it from any legal source.'

'Dirty money,' Cordelia said slowly. 'There are enough people doing business with demons to show up in your figures.'

Bill nodded. 'Other lines of evidence showed the anomaly wasn't related to organised crime, so the file was closed.'

'And you decided to investigate yourself,' Xander said. 'But-'

'I'm getting to that,' Bill said. 'It didn't take me long to discover the real situation here, but, but-'

Bill ran his finger round the rim of his cup, his eyes unfocused. 'They made me an offer.'

'You sold out,' Cordelia spat, tensing up.

'I had no choice,' Bill said, thumping the table, then he looked directly at Cordelia. 'These people had the mayor in their pocket, and they had magic. I couldn't fight that.'

'You should have tried,' Xander said, watching Bill warily. Anyone who would help demons could never be trusted.

'If it had been just me, maybe,' Bill said, 'but they threatened my daughter, and then they offered me a deal. I'd do the cabal and their friends some little favours, but not anything illegal or even unethical, and they'd ease my way. That was five years ago.'

'And now you're talking to us,' Cordelia said, her voice tinged with contempt. 'Why? What's changed?'

'They arranged an internship for my Jane,' Bill said, staring into his cup, 'with Wolfram and Hart. If I'd known what they were like … but I didn't. I thought I was doing the right thing.'

'What happened to her?' Xander asked quietly, 'Was she-'

'They told me she died in a car crash,' Bill said, his voice filling with cold fury. 'They lied. The investigators found her remains at the LA site last week. The autopsy reports …'

Bill shuddered. 'She was my little princess, and they slaughtered her. I will see them pay for that, I will-'

'Of course,' Cordelia said, looking pleased. 'That's why. You could have told your FBI friends everything, but you want the personal touch.' She looked thoughtfully at him. 'And you've been spinning this out. You could have told us everything important in half the time. You're setting us up for something, aren't you?'

'He's not checked his watch once,' Xander objected. Cordelia might be right, but she was assuming the worst again.

Bill looked at Cordelia, then sighed. 'I was a trained professional. I'd never do something that obvious. Outside, I-'

'Enough delays,' Cordelia said sharply. 'What are you waiting for?'

'My client is sending someone to assassinate you in about forty minutes.'

'What?' Xander said disbelievingly. Nothing had ever targeted him before. Plenty of things had tried to kill him, since he met Buffy, but it hadn't been personal. Now, it seemed, it was.

'How?' Cordelia asked, looking intently at Bill.

'They'll break in while you're out, then set an ambush.'

'They can't break in,' Xander interrupted, relieved. 'Margo said it would take a god to break our defences.'

Bill blinked in surprise. 'A god? Better still. You can ambush them when they try to break in. Their deaths will be-'

'You expect us to kill them?' Cordelia said sceptically, glancing up at the clock. 'Two unarmed teenagers? Or were you planning to help?'

'I can't-' Bill began.

'When did you find out about your daughter?' Cordelia asked.

'Last night,' Bill said.

'And I bet you didn't get much sleep.' Cordelia looked at Xander. 'This is why we need to think things through.'

'Like with Mrs French, or Margo?' Xander asked pointedly. Cordelia might like to plan ahead, but she had done as much last minute improvisation as him, not always successfully. He'd gotten enough out of her about what she'd been doing with her future knowledge before he found out to to know that much.

'Bill,' Xander continued, before Cordelia could reply, 'who are they sending? Va-'

'I don't know. The couple I spoke to looked human, but I think they were just flunkies.'

'When was that?' Cordelia asked. 'How long-'

'Last Tuesday. I gave them my preliminary report Saturday, then met them again yesterday. That's when I overheard what they were planning.'

'Three days, then,' Cordelia said, smiling faintly. 'That's not much time to set up anything complicated.' She paused, and looked at Bill. 'They're going to be targeting you now too.'

'So what?' Bill said, shrugging. 'I sent my daughter to her death. I deserve to die. I just hope I can take the cabal down with me.'

'You don't have to do it alone,' Xander said quickly. No one should. 'Giles-'

Cordelia clapped her hand over his mouth. 'What did I tell you?'

'You two need a private conference?' Bill said, standing up.

Cordelia nodded. 'Stay where we can see you, and keep your back to us.'

Xander pushed Cordelia's hand away. 'Now what's your problem.'

'If we involve Giles,' she said, once Bill had moved away, 'we're going to have to explain things to him.'

'Still not seeing the problem.'

'I'd like to be able to tell him everything,' Cordelia conceded. 'Having to keep track of what everyone thinks everyone else thinks we know is getting …. a bit annoying, but-'

'A bit?' Xander echoed. 'You've spent too long round Giles,' and half the intrigue was her fault anyway.

'But,' Cordelia repeated firmly, 'we can't. What about all the things we promised Margo we wouldn't talk about?'

And breaking that promise would be a very bad idea. Xander frowned, trying to remember the exact words. 'Wasn't there some way round that?'

'We'd need Harmony's consent.'

'So, we just tell him as much as we can. He already knows there's stuff we can't tell him.'

'You don't get it, do you?' Cordelia said. 'You want Giles to track down this cabal, right?'

'The cabal are already dead; they were working with Wolfram and Hart,' Xander said. 'I—

'The cabal wouldn't want his daughter killed,' Cordelia said. 'Without her, they've got no leverage over Bill.

'Bad guy politics,' Xander said dismissively. 'We can't let Bill kill himself.'

He might be a collaborator, but he was still human, and he was grieving. Letting him commit suicide by demon would be wrong.

'We can't,' Cordelia agreed, 'but if they talk, he'll tell Giles everything he found out about us.'

'That's-'

'Including our apartment.'

'You're still worried about that, when there's a man's life at stake?' Xander asked, and Cordelia winced.

Half the point of having the apartment was to back up the story she'd told Giles about a rogue watcher showing her visions, but it hadn't taken her long to spot a catch. If Giles discovered they'd only bought the apartment a few weeks ago, he'd realise her story was false, and go looking for the real source of her foreknowledge. Margo had said that would be too dangerous; the fewer people who knew the truth, the better.

Margo had almost certainly been right – she couldn't lie, and she'd known more than even Giles – but she hadn't objected when Cordelia had been talking about telling Giles about the secret apartment, before she'd had second thoughts. If Margo hadn't been worried about Giles finding out anything from that, Xander certainly wasn't going to and Cordelia shouldn't be either. She probably just liked the idea of a secret lair.

He had thought about telling Giles himself. The promise only covered the things said in the science lab that afternoon, leaving him free to talk about actually buying the place, but that would have felt too much like running to a teacher, and Giles hadn't needed to know, until now.

'OK,' Cordelia finally conceded, her voice sour, 'but only Giles, and we tell him as little as possible, or we might give away the stuff he's not allowed to know. We can say we don't know why Margo did anything.'

'We don't,' Xander pointed out, smiling, 'and we'd need Harmony's permission to tell him-'

'Only for the bits she was there for,' Cordelia said, 'but you need my permission too, and I'm not giving it.'

Not yet. He'd persuade her to tell the rest of the gang the whole truth, but that could wait. Right now, all that mattered was surviving the assassination attempt, and keeping Bill alive.

Cordelia glanced at Bill, staring glumly at the prints on the wall, then up at the clock. 'Don't you think this is all a bit too convenient?'

'You think we're being set up?'

'I think Bill might have been. Could he really have got hold of our bank accounts that fast, without help?'

'Not a clue. Willow might know,' Xander said. 'He was a professional though. He should know how long it takes.'

'He's too old to know anything much about computers. He got his daughter's autopsy report at just the right time for us too.'

'You think they're trying to panic us?' Xander asked, after a moment's thought. 'Let us know they're coming-'

'Something like that,' Cordelia said. 'They'd have to be overconfident, but also worried about someone tracing them, which mean, um, I'm not sure.' She shrugged. 'Maybe nothing, it's all circumstantial, but we should be careful.'

Xander nodded, wondering what exactly she expected him to do that he wasn't already.

'Thought about who might be responsible?' Cordelia asked.

'You only just-'

'For the assassination attempt,' Cordelia clarified.

'Anyone who doesn't like the new prophecies?' Xander suggested. It couldn't be for anything he'd already done, after all. None of that lot would be coming back, apart from the Master, and he didn't use human agents.

'That's' Cordelia began scornfully, then hesitated, 'a good point. We don't know who any of those people are.'

'Who did you think it was?' Xander asked curiously.

'Moloch,' Cordelia said, 'or one of his accomplices. It can't be the Master, or Wolfram and Hart, not their style-'

Xander nodded. Wolfram and Hart's American branches were too busy fighting for survival to bother with him.

'-and the cabal,' Cordelia went on, 'have no motives.'

'Hope you're right,' Xander said. The fewer evil masterminds he had trying to kill him, the better.

'Me too,' Cordelia said quietly, then glanced back up at the clock. 'Nearly thirty minutes yet. We need to decide what we'll do.'

* * *

'Are you sure you don't want to wait for them inside?' Bill asked. 'There's still time to set up an ambush.'

'They won't be able to get in,' Xander said, checking his watch. 'Five minutes to go. Phone Giles.'

'And we can't let you in,' Cordelia added as she pulled out her cell phone. 'Security reasons.'

'Your defences are that good?' Bill said sceptically.

Xander smiled. 'You'll see.'

'Giles,' Cordelia said, 'we need to talk. Not over the phone. Meet me-'

'Xander?' Bill said casually, 'were you involved in any of the recent …. incidents?'

'Maybe,' Xander said warily. 'Why?'

'You were, then,' Bill said. 'Peripherally, I presume.'

'Giles is coming,' Cordelia said, putting her phone away. 'We don't have that kind of power, but we know people who do.'

'Impressive,' Bill said, 'I can see wh-'

Mid-word, Bill stopped, his face going slack as he stared at something outside the window.

Xander turned to look, and smiled. There were three girls sauntering down the street in skimpy tops and hot pants, and they were gorgeous. Next to those beauties Cordelia or Buffy would look as drab and plain as Willow. No wonder everyone was staring, even the women.

Cordelia muttered something, then nudged Xander.

He ignored her, watching rapt as the girls sauntered past the window, heart-stoppingly close.

'Xander,' she shouted, pulling at his ear, 'what are you looking at?'

'Girls. They've stopped outside our door,' he said,smiling broadly

'And you don't find that suspicious?' Cordelia asked him, rummaging in her bag.

He shrugged. It was suspicious; girls that beautiful just didn't visit people like him, but that didn't matter. Let them do what they liked, as long as he could sit and admire their—

Slamming his hand on the table, Xander swore under his breath. There'd been another girl who'd made him think like that. She'd turned out to be a witch, using some kind of magical hypnosis. Now these three turned up, just when they were expecting assassins.

'Hello, salty goodness,' Cordelia murmured, peering into her make up mirror, then swivelled round to get a better a look.

Half-way, she stopped. 'I saw three men, right outside our door, talking to each other.'

'They're not men,' Xander said firmly. 'Men don't have, um, definitely girls.'

He frowned thoughtfully. He'd read about something like this recently, in one of Margo's books. What had it said?

'Got to be magic,' Cordelia said, turning her back to the window. 'They must be our assassins.'

'Bite your tongue,' Xander said, remembering.

'What?' Cordelia said disbelievingly.

Xander smiled. 'While you're looking at them, bite your tongue and think about something you're committed to. The stronger, the better. That book said that would break moderate glamours.'

'Now who sounds like Giles? You first.'

Xander stuck his tongue between his teeth, hesitated, then bit down hard, mentally reciting the great oath he had sworn, in front of Margo: 'I will remember the fallen, the heroes and the innocents alike. To their memory I will dedicate…'

The three girls shimmered, as if seen under water, then came back into focus, their true appearance revealed.

'Definitely not girls,' Xander muttered, scowling at the assassins, then smiled. He'd just done a bit of magic – only trivial magic, the kind anyone could do if they knew how, but still real magic.

Beside Xander, Cordelia mumbled the great oath, '… dedicate my life. I will strive…'

The assassins weren't even human; they were demons. He only had a back view, and he was over fifty feet away, but he could clearly see the rainbow shimmer of the scales on their bald heads and the inhuman proportions of their limbs.

'Demons,' Cordelia said, 'Succubi?'

'How'd you know?'

'Apart from their appearance, you mean?' Cordelia said. 'They're the only demons you'd want to about.'

Xander nodded. 'Lesser classic succubi, I think. They seduce men disguised as women, then collect the, um, you-know, then turn into men and, um-'

'I can guess,' Cordelia said quickly. 'They're pretty blatant.'

'The book said they can turn the glamour down, and target it. They only go full power when they feel threatened. Oh, and they're supposed to be solitary. They don't like to share.'

'Hmm,' Cordelia said, mock-thoughtfully. 'How many demon lords do we know, with a sex theme?'

'Moloch?' Xander suggested. No one had said anything about him using succubi before, but all the traces of his actions they'd spotted in the last week had involved sex.

Cordelia nodded. 'Look at the way the three of them are standing.'

Xander looked. 'They seem tense, must be why they're using full power, but-'

'Look closer,' Cordelia said. 'They're braced for an attack, from each other, and I think they're arguing. They've been forced to work together, which takes power, and anyone who's been around a while would use minions that could work together.'

'Makes sense,' Xander said, looking at the rest of the street. Almost everyone outside was staring at the succubi, only the younger children seemed to be immune, but there wasn't anyone within twenty feet of the demons. Judging by the longing looks on the boys, and their uncertain shuffling, they were probably all too nervous to get any closer.

The middle succubus pulled something out of a bag, holding it at arms length, then shoved it at the one on its right, but that succubus backed away, shaking its head.

'I'm not sure,' Cordelia said, squinting, 'does that look like a hand to you?'

'Could be,' Xander said. It was the right size and colour. He glanced at Bill, still drooling over the succubi. 'Shouldn't we wake him up.'

The left succubus gestured angrily.

'No point,' Cordelia said. 'Didn't Giles say something about a hand?'

The right-hand succubi looked nervously at the other two, then took the hand and tapped it.

A flame sprang up where she had touched it, a single black flame.

'This is it,' Xander muttered, leaning forwards to catch the action.

The succubus pointed the hand at the door.

The door shuddered, then glowed, engulfing the succubi in golden light.

Before Xander could even blink, their flesh melted away, their bones evaporating as they dropped to the ground, and then the light was gone.

'What?' Bill gasped. 'What just happened. Did you-'

'They were succubi,' Cordelia said. 'You know about them?'

Outside, people scurried past the window, anger and fear mingled on their faces.

'I've heard of them,' Bill said. 'Not seen any before.'

'They're new,' Cordelia said, then frowned. 'They should be attracted to the hell mouth though. Why are they new?'

'No idea,' Bill said softly. 'I thought I'd seen everything, but those women, and that light …. It was … impressive. No, more than that, and yet you just sit there, as if it was nothing.'

Xander shrugged. 'We've seen-'

'-a lot,' Cordelia interrupted.

Bill looked at her, then shook himself. 'Shouldn't you be clearing up the bodies?'

* * *

'See,' Xander said, a minute later. 'No bodies.'

There was nothing left of the succubi but a sprinkling of ash and a few faint scorch marks.

'I can see why you weren't worried,' Bill said. 'A good forensics team might be able to draw conclusions from the distribution of the ash, but there isn't enough left to prompt an investigation.'

'No witnesses either, officially,' Xander said. Plenty of people had watched the succubi die, but they were all gone now, leaving the street deserted.

'And the police in this town are useless,' Cordelia said.

'Deliberately,' Bill said. 'The police chief has been taking bribes.'

'From the cabal,' Xander guessed.

A few dozen yards behind Bill, Giles got out of his car.

'From everyone,' Bill said. 'The cabal likes to know who else has strings on their assets.'

Xander smiled. 'You'll have a lot to talk to Giles about.'

'Giles?' Bill said. 'You said he set up your defences? He-'

'You're fishing,' Cordelia said sharply, 'All you need to know is that Giles can help you, right Giles?'

'Perhaps,' Giles said cautiously, as Bill spun round to face him. 'Who's this?'

'Bill Jones,' Cordelia said, 'ex-FBI. He's spent the last five years working for the bad guys.'

'Defecting?' Giles suggested, looking quizzically at Bill.

Xander nodded. 'When he found out about his daughter, he decided to warn us about the assassins.'

Giles pushed his glasses up. 'You didn't mention assassins when you phoned, Cordelia.'

'You'd have wanted to bring Buffy-'

'Exactly when are these assassins due?' Giles asked, looking suspiciously at Cordelia.

Xander smiled. 'You just missed them.'

'By design, I take it,' Giles said. 'Dare I ask what happened to them?'

'Your defences-' Bill began.

'Margo's defences,' Cordelia said quickly, 'to protect our secrets. Remember Winston?'

Giles looked sideways at Xander, then at Bill. 'I understand. Is there anything you can tell me.'

Xander tapped the door. 'This is our place. The succubi tried to break in with a magic hand to-'

Giles looked sharply at Xander. 'Burning with a black flame?'

'Ye-'

'A Hand of Glory,' Giles said. 'Interesting. How did you know they were succubi?'

Cordelia smiled. 'Xander's been reading about them.'

Xander smiled back. 'And you thought I was just looking at the-'

'They said you'd help me,' Bill interrupted. 'I want them dead.'

Giles blinked. 'You want who dead?'

'The cabal,' Xander clarified. 'They got his daughter a job with Wolfram and Hart.'

'They killed her,' Bill said, his voice low. 'They killed my darling Jane. I will see them pay for that-'

'Bill has nothing else left to live for,' Cordelia said, staring intently at Giles. 'He wants to see the cabal brought down, at any cost.'

Giles looked at her for a moment, then turned and smiled broadly at Bill. 'Of course we'll help you. You'll-'

'You will?' Bill said. 'You will?'

Cordelia's phone rang.

'I've got their names right here,' Bill said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket, 'thirteen prominent local businessmen who-'

'Buffy?' Cordelia said. 'Yes, why?'

'Buffy?' Giles muttered, turning away from Bill.

Cordelia shushed him. 'Somewhere nearby. I can see his car. Why?'

Xander sighed. She was doing it again. For someone who prided themselves on blunt honesty, Cordelia was rather too good at bending the truth.

'Assassins!' Cordelia exclaimed. 'You- OK, I'll look for Giles.'

'Need to know?' Bill said hesitantly.

'I can neither confirm nor deny,' Giles said, smiling faintly. 'How far away am I?'

'Giles!' Cordelia shouted, holding the phone at arms length. 'Not that far.'

Giles waited a moment, then took the phone from Cordelia. 'Buffy? Cordelia-'

While he was talking, Cordelia nudged Xander. 'Willow was with her,' she said softly.

'She OK?' Xander instantly asked.

'Buffy didn't say, but she didn't sound worried.'

'Good,' Xander said, relaxing.

Cordelia frowned. 'You forgot, didn't you. Buffy said she was going to try and keep her away from the keyboard.'

'She did?' Xander muttered. Maybe she had, but all his attention had been on her looks. Her latest outfit really showed off her legs, and the top had been pretty good too.

'-standard practice.' Giles said. 'Search the area for possible observation points, and collect any evidence you find. I'll meet you in the library at half-seven, the teachers should all be gone by then. Bye.'

Xander checked his watch. Six o'clock? Later he'd realised, but he'd been heading home for his tea when they'd spotted Bill, and that had been nearly an hour ago. He'd have to phone his mom soon, and let her know not to expect him, but why half-seven?

'That's ninety minutes,' Xander said, puzzled. 'We can be there in ten.'

'We can't take Bill with us,' Giles said, looking apologetically at him. 'Security, you understand.'

Bill nodded. 'Of course.'

'But we can't leave you loose either. Um, anyone got scissors?'

'Nail scissors,' Cordelia said, 'for emergencies. Why?'

'Bill,' he said, 'I'll need a lock of your hair, and your promise of good faith, freely given. Break your word, and I'll be able to use the hair to strike you down.'

Bill looked briefly uncertain, then said firmly. 'OK, for my daughter, but I want your promise too.'

'You have my word as a watcher,' Giles said. 'Cordelia, the scissors?'

'They're nail scissors,' she said. 'They're not for hair. Can't you use blood?'

'I am not in the habit of carrying empty phials in my pockets.' Giles paused. 'But nail clippings are just as good.'

Grudgingly, Cordelia passed Bill the scissors. 'This isn't going to take ninety minutes.'

'Bill is a marked man now,' Giles said, frowning at the phone. 'I'm going to try and get him out of town. Um, how do you start dialling on this thing.'

* * *

'She'll be waiting when you get off,' Giles said, forty minutes later.

'Annette Chadwick, mid-forties, red hair,' Bill said, 'Got it. You're certain she-'

'She's been working on the Wolfram and Hart investigation,' Giles said patiently. 'She….'

Xander stopped listening. Giles had already explained that twice.

'Sit down, Cordy,' he said instead, picking his hamburger carton off the seat at the side of him. 'There's room.'.

'In this dress?' she said scornfully. 'I'd rather stand.'

Xander leaned back and glanced round the Sunnydale bus station, nearly empty at this hour. The paint was peeling, and the windows were grimy, but it was only shabby, not filthy. The only litter he could see was a couple of empty coke cans and half a dozen cigarette stubs, and there was no graffiti at all, so why was Cordelia taking such pains not to touch anything?

'You don't get it, do you?' she said, looking thoughtfully down at him, then hesitated. 'I don't have-'

A bus pulled in, drowning Cordelia out.

'Finally,' she muttered, then frowned.

'That's Bill's,' Xander, watching as Giles ushered him on board.

'Obvious, much?'

Standing up, Xander tossed the empty carton at the nearest bin.

It missed.

Cordelia smiled as he bent over to pick it back up. 'You'll have to aim better than that.'

'I got the can in, didn't I?' Xander said, then looked uncertainly at Giles as he walked up to them. 'Would you really strike him dead?'

He'd seen Margo kill someone with magic before, but not Giles, and Margo's victim had been a demon worshipping cannibal. Killing people for breaking promises didn't seem like something he'd do.

'Strike down, not strike dead,' Giles said, 'and I was bluffing. The theory is sound; I lack practice. Cordelia-'

'This Annette,' she interrupted. 'How well do you know her?'

'Not personally,' Giles said, smiling, 'but she has a good reputation, her political position is weak, and she doesn't have access to any paper evidence. I didn't give Bill time to collect anything from his office-'

'And now you've got those keys,' Cordelia said. 'You can edit everything you send her.'

Giles nodded as he checked his watch. 'I can, if I decide I should. You've clearly not been-'

'That's-' Cordelia began.

'Impatient, aren't you?' Giles said, and she scowled. 'Wait until we're in my car.'

* * *

Giles looked in the rear view mirror, then pulled out. 'Cordelia-'

'Blame Margo,' she said quickly.

'Not without the facts. Xander, how long have you known about Winston?'

'Since the zoo trip.'

'Only a few days after you told me,' Giles said sharply, 'in strict confidence, and before you say-'

'I didn't want to,' Cordelia snapped. 'Xander- um, he was there when I spoke to Margo. He heard everything.'

'That explains telling him. It doesn't explain not telling me he knew.'

'I wanted to,' Xander said, ignoring Cordelia's glare.

'You should have done. I know Dame Margo put you both under a confidentiality binding, but-'

'Then-'

'But,' Giles repeated, ignoring Cordelia's interruption, 'you were able to cue me in just now. You could have done so earlier. I needed to know Xander knew.'

'See,' Xander said, looking sideways at Cordelia. 'I said he needed to know everything.'

'Not everything, yet,' Giles said quickly. 'Didn't Dame Margo explain about prophecies?'

'What about them?' Cordelia asked casually.

'I should have known,' Giles said. 'I suppose you didn't read the book I pointed out either.'

'No,' Cordelia said, then quickly added, 'you didn't sound worried, so I thought it could wait.'

'Big book, was it,' Xander asked, smiling.

'Fifteen hundred pages of small print.'

Giles checked the rear-view mirror, then changed lanes. 'How much do you worry about living in an earthquake zone?'

Xander frowned. 'That bad?'

'Buffy was attacked,' Cordelia said thoughtfully, 'but you're here, talking to us.'

'Exactly,' Giles said. 'Prophecies as detailed as those you received can only be the result of a class five causality breach, which will have left you in a delicate balance between a soul-destroying negation of free will and a reality scarring temporal paradox. Fortunately, whatever annulled the old prophecies will have largely removed the latter danger, but given the obvious involvement of major powers-'

'You lost me at causality breach,' Xander said. He knew what a temporal paradox was, he'd read too many comics not to, but what did that have to do with destroying souls?

Giles sighed. 'Cordelia knows things we don't, about what might have been.'

Xander nodded. 'OK.'

'That knowledge is a dangerous temptation. There are two ways it can be disastrously misused.'

'How disastrously?' Cordelia asked slowly.

'One of them is no longer an option, but the other could cost you your soul.'

'You didn't say-'

'You've struck the right balance,' Giles said, turning right. 'I didn't want to endanger that.'

'Like when you couldn't tell us why we needed to swear those oaths?' Xander said thoughtfully.

'Close enough,' Giles said, 'both times there were things you couldn't safely know. However-'  
'There any more?' Cordelia asked suspiciously.

'Two,' Giles admitted after a moment, 'what may have happened when you met the maiden, and what it means to have heard the midnight bells. Explaining the first would be tempting fate; explaining the second could be … worse.'

'So knowing too much about the future is dangerous,' Xander summed up, before Cordelia could object.

'It is,' Giles said, turning right, 'but only for as long as it is about the future. The more events deviate from the path originally prophesied, the safer her knowledge becomes.'

'And one day it'll be safe enough to talk about?' Xander guessed.

'Yes, when Cordelia's knowledge no longer gives us any advantage.'

'Typical,' Cordelia said. 'Why are you telling us this now, not when it would have been useful?'

'It still is,' Giles said, turning right. 'You struck the right balance. I don't know if Xander has.'

'You mean I'm in danger?' Xander said, jerking upright.

'Potentially,' Giles said. 'That's why I need straight answers from you two. I know you're-'

'Ask your questions,' Cordelia said, looking sideways at Xander.

'How much have you told him about our future?'

'Not much,' Xander said. 'She-'

'I did remember what you said,' Cordelia interrupted. 'Margo said the same thing. Keep it vague. Avoid details. She just didn't bother explaining why, like you.'

'With reason,' Giles said, relief plain in his voice. 'Xander, how much have you been able to read between the lines?'

'Nothing,' Xander said, 'um, not much. When she gets all uncomfortable round people, I can-'

'That should be safe enough,' Giles said, his reassuring tones belied by his uncertain words. 'There's just one rule you need to remember, no matter what: Never try to make any prophecy come true. It doesn't matter how good it sounds, or easy it would be. Don't do it, ever. Not under any circumstances. You may have heard the midnight bells, but you are not the one unnumbered. To-'

'I get it,' Xander said, cutting Giles's warning short. 'Making prophecies come true equals major badness. I won't do it.' Then he frowned. 'But Willow said prophecies always relied on people making them come true. She said it was in all the stories.'

'I do hope she wasn't answering your questions,' Giles said, turning right.

'Last year,' Xander said quickly, 'before-'

'Willow was not wrong,' Giles said. 'Thwarting prophecies requires familiarity with their classification and a keen eye for loopholes. Crude brute force attempts only ever succeed in bringing about the prophecy's fulfilment, but these prophecies have already been comprehensively thwarted. However, I wasn't talking about thwarting prophecies but about attempting to fulfil them. Leave that to the demons; by their nature they've already paid the price, and what do they get for their efforts?'

'Nothing?' Cordelia suggested. 'Either way, you lose,'

'It's not a dichotomy,' Giles said. 'There are other options, and those two are not equally dire. As that book you didn't read says, whereas thwarting prophecies is akin to baiting a vampire, attempting to fulfil them is on a par with facing down the full fury of the Wild Hunt. Theoretically, both are possible, but while I've done the first a time or two, surviving the second is beyond any of us. The underlying problem is that – but that can wait until later.'

Preferably much later. It helped to know the reasons behind the rules – then he could decide for himself whether they made sense – but those reasons were usually boring.

'Good,' Cordelia said, looking out of the window. 'Why are we going round in circles?'

'To avoid eavesdroppers,' Giles said. 'Bill's not the only person who's been following you. The library's secure, but-'

'He isn't?' Xander interrupted, surprised.

Cordelia sighed. 'You see, Giles? You didn't need to worry.'

'What?' Xander said. 'Oh, you mean-'

'He's not going to let us out of here until he's done,' Cordelia finished.

'Hardly,' Giles said. 'We do have to work together, though it seems we might need to clarify the terms.'

'Great,' Cordelia said, smiling sarcastically. 'Where shall we start. I know-'

'Not,' Giles said firmly, 'with you as the spider in the centre of the web.'

'That's-'

'What you've been doing.' Giles said. 'You can't claim nerves, not when you…'

As Giles explained, Xander looked at Cordelia, scowling speechlessly at the seat back, and smiled. 'He's got you there.'

He wasn't completely sure what Giles was accusing her off, but whatever it was Cordelia definitely knew she'd been caught at it. It must be pretty bad too, or Giles would have put helping Buffy first.

'Your visions of what might have been are a treasure trove of information,' Giles said, his tone now didactic, 'and you've been using it to your advantage, handing out choice titbits to me and Xander – maybe Angel too, that could explain-- '

'What makes you think-'

'You've had private contacts with Angel?' Giles finished. 'Willow gave that away, inadvertently. I don't know how she found out-'

'Cordy wrote Angel a letter using the school computers,' Xander said helpfully.

'I deleted that,' Cordelia said sharply.

'Willow undeleted it,' Xander said, 'and showed it me.'

'An amateur mistake,' Giles said dismissively. 'Anyway, Cordelia, you've been giving all three of us carefully selected fragments of your visions without letting us compare notes. You're the only one with the full facts, the spider at the centre of the web. The rest of us are puppets dangling from your strings.'

'That's,' Cordelia began hotly, then hesitated.

Xander looked uncertainly at her. She liked to be in control, he'd known that for years, but he would have said she was too bluntly honest to be that sneaky, and yet, she'd used leading questions to steer Buffy into discovering Marcie's lair. That had taken cunning.

Well, she had needed to keep the time travel secret. She probably would have preferred openly taking charge, but had resorted to subterfuge rather than her usual methods.

At least, he was pretty sure they weren't her usual methods. He didn't actually know how she'd kept Harmony and the others in line, but he had had several long conversations with her about all the intrigue, and she'd sounded regretful.

Either she'd become a much better actress in the future, or she'd overreached herself, which meant she hadn't had much practice at sneakiness.

'I thought about doing that,' Cordelia admitted, after a few moments silence, 'but it doesn't work. People don't do what they're supposed to. They get ideas of their own, and-'

'The nerve of them,' Giles said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. 'That sounds like the voice of experience.'

'How long have you known?' Cordelia asked, tacitly conceding the point.

'I've had niggling suspicions for weeks, though they didn't gel until this evening,' Giles said lightly, 'but I'm sure you don't want to bore you with the details. We've got more important matters to discuss, starting with your true motives.'

Xander smiled. Cordelia would sooner be bored than talk about that, and Giles knew it.

'What,' Cordelia began, glaring at the back of his head, then her voice softened. 'What do-'

'There are things you can't tell me, yet,' Giles said, swinging out to overtake, 'just as there are things I can't tell you, but we need to be able to trust each other, despite the secrets between us.'

Cordelia smiled, a honest smile. 'Get this in the watchers a lot?'

'Byzantium had nothing on us, Our internal protocols cover – but I don't suppose you've thought about the categorisation of your secrets, have you?'

Xander looked blankly at Cordelia. 'The what?'

Giles switched the indicator off. 'We're going to need more time than we've got tonight. Tomorrow? We can talk about your martial arts training too.'

'You noticed?' Cordelia asked. 'We've got a free period first thing.'

'If you'd been attacked by a demon, you would have said by now,' Giles said. 'Hmm, one period might not be long enough.'

'We can meet in our apartment before school,' Xander suggested, ignoring Cordelia's protest. 'It'll be easier than explaining it,' and showing it off would be fun.

'OK,' Cordelia said, her voice grudging, but her face was relaxed. Then she looked at Xander, and smiled. 'Think you can be up by seven?'

After a moment, Xander nodded. 'And Buffy-'

'-has many talents,' Giles interrupted, 'but I'm not entirely sure the direct approach is called for here.'

'You'll just tell her what you think she needs to know,' Cordelia said, looking faintly amused, 'and you-'

'We,' Giles said, 'will tell her everything we agree it's not too dangerous for her to be told. Willow is currently compromised, but once that's dealt with we'll bring her in too, unless you have any objections.'

Cordelia opened her mouth, then frowned thoughtfully. 'Ask me again tomorrow.'

Giles twisted abruptly, glaring at Cordelia, and the car drifted left.

'The road!' Xander yelled, a split-second behind Cordelia, then checked her reaction. Initial surprise was quickly fading to mild self-reproach, so she must have worked out what Giles was thinking, which was more than Xander could hope to do. He didn't need to though, not with people like Willow and Cordelia around to explain for him.

'Cordelia,' Giles said sternly, once he'd got the car back under control, 'think very carefully. I've read the new prophecies. I can guess what personal motives you might have, after what you've seen, but acting on them risks …. everything, and for what? How certain can you be of what you saw?'

'Very,' Xander said immediately. Whatever Giles was talking about now, Cordelia hadn't just seen it in a prophetic vision; she had actually been there She—

Wait a minute. The way Cordelia looked at Willow, and her issues, 'Did-'

'Don't ask,' Cordelia said, just as Giles started to object, then she stared out of the window. 'I … I do have … motives-'

'Cordelia-' Giles began.

'But I haven't done anything about them,' she went on quickly. 'I wanted to, but there were always more important things. Helping you comes first.'

Xander smiled wryly. Cordelia had changed a lot in the future, and it had all been good, but she was still Cordelia. There was no way she wouldn't have tried something to her benefit; she just hadn't succeeded.

'Good,' Giles said, then hesitated. 'Xander, you sounded suspiciously certain then. There's something I don't know about Cordelia's visions, isn't there?'

'This is why I don't want to talk to him,' Cordelia said, looking accusingly at Xander.

'I have ways of blocking myself from pursuing dangerous lines of thought,' Giles said.

Cordelia''s eyebrow's twitched. 'So, if I say don't think about pink elephants …'

'I don't,' Giles said, slowing for the traffic lights. 'It was part of my anti-interrogation training, and Dame Margo gave me a refresher course.'

'Mind readers?' Xander guessed. If telepathy worked anything like it did in the comics, that'd stop anyone passively listening to his thoughts from learning anything they shouldn't, though not someone actively rummaging through Giles's mind.

Giles nodded. 'That doesn't mean you should tell me everything, of course. Theoretically, I can safely seal all the dangerous information away in the recesses of my mind, as if I had never learned it, but it is much simpler not to learn it in the first place. If you just tell me what I need to know, and what I mustn't, that'll be enough.'

'OK,' Cordelia said slowly, then looked at Xander. 'Think one night will be enough for you to work out what that is?'

Xander smiled back. 'I've seen you operate. You can work it out. I'll stick to what I'm good at,' whatever that was.

'More than you think,' Cordelia said quietly. 'Giles, Margo agreed I was right not to tell you what I didn't about what I saw, and I didn't hide anything from her, right, Xander?'

'She did,' he quickly agreed.

'But was that absolute,' Giles asked slyly, 'or subject to circumstances?'

'If circumstances change, I'll tell you,' Cordelia said. 'I told you I knew stuff, didn't I?'

'For the right reasons,' Giles agreed, signalling left. 'Is there anything else I shouldn't be thinking about, besides Harmony?'

'You know?' Xander gasped. If Giles knew, then—

'No,' Cordelia said firmly. 'He didn't say he knew; he said he knew not to ask questions.'

'Which doesn't mean I don't know more,' Giles said, 'but you're right. Dame Margo warned me off the subject. She suggested I should let you take the lead.'

'You mean ordered,' Cordelia said. 'She didn't tell us anything about this. If we'd known-'

'We could have had this conversation a month ago,' Giles pointed out. 'Dame Margo was known to be a firm believer in learning from experience.'

Xander scowled. 'You mean she got us tangled up in secrets just to teach us a lesson? That's-'

'Not just one lesson, I suspect,' Giles said. 'People like her seldom do things for just one reason.'

Cordelia sighed. 'Something else to sort out tomorrow. What are we going to tell Buffy and Willow?'

Giles turned right. 'About this evening? All we can.'

'Vague, much?' Cordelia said. 'We can't mention ….'

Xander stopped listening. Giles and Cordelia could work that out between them; he'd just follow their lead. All he really wanted to know was what had happened to Willow and Buffy, and he'd find out in—

He glanced out of the window, checking the shop fronts.

—he'd find out in about five minutes.

* * *

'What are they doing outside?' Giles muttered, reversing into the parking space.

Xander squinted into the gloom. The way Buffy and Willow were strolling across the car park, there couldn't be anything seriously wrong, but they did keep looking around.

'Buffy's got her stake out,' Cordelia noted.

Xander opened the car door, then froze as faint sounds seeped in, ear-gratingly high pitched chanting with a deep bass backing beat. 'Gi-'

'Quiet,' Giles said softly, tilting his head.

Xander looked back at Buffy, who was staring intently at a manhole cover. She must have heard the sound from inside, and come to investigate.

'Don't recognise the language,' Giles said, pulling a crossbow out of the glove compartment. 'You two should be able to get into the boot from there.'

Cordelia twisted round, bending over the back seat. 'Which bag?'

'The red one.'

Xander smiled briefly, enjoying the view, then joined Cordelia. 'What do we need?'

'Giles,' Buffy shouted, 'do you know-'

'Don't touch,' Giles shouted back. 'Cordelia, you take the crossbow; you've got better aim. Xander, you can have the cricket bat.'

Cordelia nodded. 'Another thing you need to teach us.'

Xander hefted the bat. 'What's wrong with baseball?'

'Cricket bats are flatter,' Giles said. 'Stay behind me, if you can.'

Pushing the door wide open, Xander got out, followed by Cordelia.

The manhole erupted, a foot-wide beam of sickly green light blasting through the cover.

Blinking, Xander shaded his eyes. There were shapes wriggling in that light, unpleasant shapes.

Then the light blinked out.

'That was-' Cordelia began.

A tentacle surged out of the manhole.

Buffy took the crossbow off Willow.

Edging backwards, Xander watched intently. It had looked like one tentacle at first, but now he could see there were actually three twisted together, writhing over each other within their coating of dully glowing slime.

At the tip of the tentacle, the component strands splayed out, grey webbing stretching between them, forming a grotesque mouth. It didn't seem immediately threatening – the mouth was only weaving slow circles through the night air, not spitting fire -- but it was obviously a demon, and there might be much more to it than he could see.

He could still hear the demonic chanting too. It was quieter now, audible only in brief snatches, but it had not gone away.

Buffy raised the crossbow, then hesitated. 'Giles, what do I aim at?'

'Try the head,' Giles said. 'That's always a good target.'

Buffy fired.

'You know what this is?' Cordelia asked.

The crossbow bolt bounced off the mouth-web.

Giles shrugged. 'No idea, though I can guess why it's here.'

'The hell mouth,' Cordelia said confidently as Buffy reloaded.

'Not precisely.' Giles frowned. 'If I'm right, this is not good.'

'Well, duh,' Xander said. 'Giant tentacle, right there,' and there was no way that could be a good thing.

Buffy fired again.

Giles nudged his glasses. 'The how may be-'.

The bolt hit one of the strands, just below the mouth, and stuck there, quivering.

'-more important than-'

The tentacle whipped towards Buffy, mouth opening wide.

'Down,' Giles shouted, '-than the what.'

Scooping up Willow, Buffy dove sideways.

The tentacle pulled back, rearing up, then spat out a torrent of slime.

Buffy dodged again, then plucked at her top. 'That splashed. If it stains-'

'Belt and braces,' Giles muttered. 'Buffy, catch.'

'How did it target us,' Willow asked, looking uneasily at the tentacle, now ignoring them. 'No eyes.'

'There are other senses,' Giles said as Buffy caught the keys. 'Get a sword from the weapons locker, and the full leather suit from the red bag on the middle shelf. They should fit.'

Xander smiled. Buffy would look good dressed like-—

—-but he couldn't afford to think about that now. Blinking, Xander focused back on the tentacle.

'Wha-' Buffy began.

'He wants you to climb it,' Willow said. 'Right?'

Giles nodded. 'Get far enough up that the mouth can't reach you, then start cutting, but don't let the slime touch your skin. It might be harmful.'

'Gee, you think,' Buffy said, looking meaningfully at the dully glowing puddle.

Giles's eyebrow twitched. 'Willow, can you get over here. I want to try a banishment ritual.'

Willow looked up at the tentacle, then sprinted towards Xander.

'Magic?' Cordelia said, looking uncertainly at Giles. 'Can't we just wait for Buffy?'

'Normally we would, but under the circumstances-'

'What circumstances?' Willow asked, leaning down and rubbing her ankle.

'You hurt?'

'Just banged it a bit when Buffy-'

'Are you sure, Giles?' Cordelia persisted. 'From what I've seen, magic goes wrong half the time.'

Giles nodded. 'Magic can be simple, safe, or strong, but never all three, and with the hellmouth warp-'

The tentacle shouted three incomprehensible words, words echoed by the demonic chorus, quietly at first, but growing steadily louder.

'What now?' Cordelia muttered, loading her crossbow.

'Not yet,' Giles said, gently pulling it from her hands, 'we need to time this right.'

'You know what it's doing?' Willow asked.

'Maybe,' Giles said, walking away. 'Stay there.'

The tentacle shouted again, the same three words, and the concrete around the manhole cracked open, green light seeping out from the sewers—

Xander frowned. That couldn't be right. The sewers were pipes running through solid earth. Even they were full of green slime, and if the cracks went far enough down to reach them, not much light would escape, and it would all go straight up.

'-five, four, three,' Giles counted down, ignoring Willow's questions.

No, the light was definitely coming from just below the surface of the car park, as though the concrete was just a thin skin over a emerald sea. The demon must be—

'One,' Giles said, then fired the crossbow.

For a third time, the tentacle shouted, and the cracks raced across the car park, chunks of concrete falling into the light, but mid-word the bolt struck home.

The demonic chorus faltered as the tentacle stuttered, then fell silent, the green glow receding to a small circle, only twice the size of the manhole cover.

'Of course,' Willow said. 'A carefully timed distraction-'

Giles leapt sideways as the tentacle spat slime at him, landing on his knees.

'That your plan?' Cordelia said sceptically, taking one step towards Giles.

'No,' he said, standing back up, 'but I don't think it'll try that again.'

Xander looked thoughtfully at the tentacle, its mouth again drifting in slow circles. 'It's trying to get into our world-'

Giles half-nodded, confirming Xander's guess. The demon wasn't coming out of the sewers; it was coming from one of the hell dimensions.

'-and it's already got one tentacle through-'

'That shouldn't be possible,' Cordelia said, scowling. 'It needs someone on this side-'

'Which is the real worry,' Giles interrupted. 'If – but that will have to wait. For now, that demon only has one tentacle in our dimension. We've shown we can stop it opening the portal further from this side, so it's going to have to force its way through, and that will be slow, giving us time-'

'Or it could kill us,' Cordelia said.

'If it was going to, it already would have,' Giles said patiently, passing the crossbow back to Cordelia. 'Buffy can kill the tentacle, but that may not be enough. We need to try sealing the portal.'

'Or something else might come through,' Willow said. 'What do we do?'

'I draw a pentagram round the tentacle,' Giles said, taking the cricket bat back off Xander, 'a very large pentagram.'

'You said 'may'. You're not certain? I've not seen you use magic like this before,' Cordelia said, only the faintest of emphasis on 'seen'.

Xander nodded unthinkingly. Cordelia had mentioned before that Giles was using magic more freely than in the original history, which might not be a good thing. Not all the divergences were bad, though.

Giles glanced sideways at her, then shrugged. 'Desperate situations and all that. The demon might seal the portal behind itself when it retreats, but it might not. We have to play it safe, belt and braces. If each of you draws a pentagram on the bat-'

'In blood?' Cordelia suggested suspiciously.

'Unless you have three pounds of powdered silver handy,' Giles said sharply. 'One pentagram each, point upwards, drawn clockwise. I'll trace out a large pentagram with the bat, then we can all stand at the compass point, and I'll try every major rite of dismissal I can remember.'

'Will there be chanting,' Xander asked, smiling at Willow.

'Some,' Giles said. 'If I start saying 'we', that's your cue to echo me.'

'Got it,' Xander said, holding out his hand. 'Knife?'

Giles passed it over.

Teeth gritted, Xander slit his thumb, then drew a pentagram at the top of the bat.

As he licked the cut, Cordelia grabbed the knife off him, then pricked her own thumb, barely wincing.

Xander glanced over at Willow, uneasily watching Cordelia. Neither of them had ever liked seeing blood, but Cordelia seemed to have toughened up in the future.

'Giles,' he said, 'does Willow have to? Two is a special number, isn't it?'

'It is,' Giles agreed, 'but here, four is better.'

'It's OK,' Willow said, taking the knife from Cordelia. 'I can do it.'

Head turned away, she poked tentatively at her hand, then closed her eyes and stabbed, drawing blood.

Cordelia looked down at Willow, her face unreadable, then at Giles. 'Where do we stand?'

'Over there,' Giles said, pointing. 'Xander, you stand there, opposite me.'

'And I'm opposite Cordelia?' Willow said, rubbing her injured hand.

Passing her his handkerchief, Giles nodded. 'It'll help if you can concentrate on how the demon shouldn't be here.'

'Easy,' Cordelia said, glancing warily at the demon. 'Let's get--'

The tentacle quivered, then arched over to suck at the concrete.

Cordelia stared openly at it, then looked back at Giles, busily drawing on the bat. 'Explain.'

He looked up briefly, his eye brows flickering in surprise, but he didn't stop drawing. 'Um, yes, interesting. It seems to be attempting to physically pull itself into the world, a novel approach. It might work, though I doubt it has enough of a grip, no teeth. Done.'

Xander smiled at Cordelia. 'Then let's get chanting.'

* * *

Two minutes later, Buffy came out of the school, covered from head to toe in skin-tight grey leather, a sword half her height in her hands.

Xander gulped, his eyes locked on her. If Buffy started patrolling dressed like that, the male vamps would be queueing up to fight her.

'Where do you shop, because-' Buffy paused. 'What are you doing?'

'Drawing a pentagram,' Giles said, tracing out the last segment. 'A little magic to back you up. Dame Margo made a few suggestions about practical outfits for us, and she did leave me with everyone's measurements.'

'You can talk?' Willow said, surprised. 'Um, I mean-'

'As long as I'm not mid-invocation,' Giles said, 'and I don't let my concentration lapse.'

Reluctantly, Xander looked away from Buffy, trying not to smile too broadly. If Giles had a outfit like that for Cordelia too-—

But he could contemplate that later, when he had time to enjoy it. Smile fading, Xander stared at the demon tentacle, an alien intrusion into his world.

Buffy looked up at the tentacle, doubtfully at the pentagram, then with a half-shrug, lowered her visor and jumped over the faint line, charging at the demon.

Pentagram completed, Giles lifted the bat off the ground, holding it flat against his chest with the handle at neck height.

Buffy swung her sword down, trying to sever the demon's neck, but it jerked sideways, then reared up.

'With blood freely given, we bar the way,' Giles chanted. 'No evil shall pass this age-hallowed sign.'

Sword at the ready, Buffy circled the demon.

'Sanguine donato gratis, itineri obstamus. Malum signum quod aetatibus sacrant non transibit.'

Then Giles switched languages again, and Xander was completely lost. He didn't understand Latin, but he could recognise a few familiar words in it, several that were almost the same as in English, as well as a couple he remembered from the succubi books. Whatever Giles was speaking now, it sounded almost completely alien, almost. The words were strange, but their rhythm, that was tickling old memories.

Laughing, Buffy dodged as the demon spat slime at her. 'Pathetic.'

The demon roared, a deep bass growl that shook the ground.

'We four stand as one.' Giles said, then tapped the ground with the bat.

Buffy darted inwards, running right up to the base of the tentacle, then paused uncertainly. 'Giles, the sword. How do I-'

'Quattuor quasi una resistimus,' Giles said, tapped the ground again, then switched to the third language.

'Climb one-handed,' Cordelia shouted. 'Grip with your knees.'

Buffy looked sharply at her

Giles tapped the ground a third time, and the pentagrams on the bat lit up.

'There was a scabbard in the library,' he shouted, then touched to the bat to the large pentagram.

Rosy flames raced along the lines Giles had sketched out, only a few inches tall but dazzlingly bright.

The tentacle shuddered.

'Now you tell me,' Buffy said, looking up at the mouth, twenty feet above her.

The demon lunged at her, mouth gaping wide.

Buffy rolled sideways, the demon passing a foot over her head. 'Giles? What am I supposed to do if it-'

'Hold on tight,' Giles said. 'You are the slayer; you have the strength.'

Xander nodded enthusiastically. 'You can do it, Buffy.'

Lifting the bat, Giles pointed it at the demon. 'By the oaths we have sworn, and the blood we have spilled, we command you: begone!'

'Begone!' Xander shouted, on cue.

The demon shuddered, then roared a single incomprehensible word.

Around its mouth, the shadows deepened.

Buffy backed away from the demon.

'On the elements I call,' Giles said calmly, then pointed the bat at Cordelia.

The tentacle whipped through the air, leaving a line of shadow behind it, darker than the night.

Buffy balanced the sword on her palm for a few moments then pointed it back over her shoulder, parallel to the ground.

'Aqua, fluens calice quam maximo, arcesso,' Giles said, and Cordelia was wreathed in thin mist, scarcely visible in the gloom.

With a flick of her elbow, Buffy sent the sword spinning through the air.

The demon jerked sideways, but too slowly. The sword buried itself in the tentacle, to the hilt.

'Now, I can climb it,' Buffy said brightly, glancing sideways at Giles.

Giles nodded approvingly at Buffy, then pointed the bat at Xander.

The demon lunged at Giles, but the pentagram flared up, dazzlingly bright, forcing the demon back.

Guessing what was coming next, Xander looked at Cordelia. She was staring intently at the demon, clearly untroubled by the mist, and she hated getting her hair damp. Whoever got fire probably wouldn't even get hot.

'Terra, aeterna ut risus, arcesso,' Giles said, watching Buffy run towards the demon, and Xander's vision blurred, his lingering aches fading away.

He blinked, then waved his right hand experimentally. He could feel something round him, brushing against his skin, but all he could see were a few pale grey smears. He could feel a reassuring presence enveloping him, its timeless strength supporting him, but his hand found only empty air. Somewhere, far off, he could hear warm laughter, but—

'Earth,' Willow said, sounding pleased. 'Terra is earth. Looks like you're inside a translucent monolith.'

Buffy glanced down, at where the tentacle came out of the portal, then leapt.

'Feels strange,' Xander said, then quickly smiled, 'in a good way.'

Seven feet off the ground, Buffy clung tightly to the swaying tentacle.

'Feels like that magic water bowl,' Cordelia said, 'but a lot weaker.'

As Giles pointed the bat at Willow, Buffy began her climb.

The demon lunged at her, but missed, its head whistling inches beneath her feet.

'Ignis, rubrum scutum contra tenebras, arcesso,' Giles said, and Willow glowed, faint golden flames licking across her skin. She looked curiously at her hands, then smiled reassuringly at Xander.

The demon spat slime at Buffy, but she was already moving, swinging round to the other side of the tentacle, and the slime spattered harmlessly against the demon itself.

Howling in frustration, the demon reared up, then looked at Giles and spoke a single word, its voice painfully dissonant.

A ball of writhing shadows shot out of its mouth, hitting the concrete two feet short of Giles.

'Missed again,' Buffy said, but Giles frowned.

Xander leaned forwards, trying to get a better look, then scowled. The shadows seemed to be sinking into the ground, but they weren't fading; they were darkening, staining the ground in deepest black. The demon was definitely planning something.

'Aer, gerulus verborum, arcesso,' Giles said, awkwardly pointing the bat at himself, and his jacket flapped in the breeze.

The demon spoke a single word, short and ugly.

The shadow-stained concrete rippled like oil, three shapes emerging from its depths; giant beetles, the size of a large dog, but with four tentacles sprouting from their heads, each tipped with a single claw.

Willow and Cordelia both grimaced, but Giles looked sternly at the demon tentacle.

One of the demonic beetles sprang at Giles, only to be forced back by the pentagram, but the other two scuttled away from him, towards the tentacle, and Buffy.

'Ab vestra conlativa ope, abombinamentum amandentur,' he said, 'nunc et semper.'

Without conscious thought, Xander pointed at the tentacle, jagged pebbles orbiting his outstretched hand. An instinctive gesture, and they zoomed towards the demon in a steady stream.

Xander looked disbelievingly at his hand, then smiled. This was the good kind of magic.

Two demonic beetles ran straight up each side of the tentacle,

Smiling, Willow and Cordelia blasted them with fire and water.

Twelve feet up, Buffy watched the smouldering corpses fall away, then resumed her long climb.

The third demon began scraping geometrical designs in the concrete with its claws, presumably some magical symbol.

Xander turned, ready to blast it.

'No,' Giles said sharply. 'Focus on the tentacle. Leave its minion till the last minute.'

'Is it healing?' Willow said uncertainly.

Xander peered at the tentacle. It was pock-marked with craters from his pebbles, none of them visibly shrinking, but there weren't enough of them. The demon was slowly healing itself, just barely fast enough to keep up with the damage done.

'It is,' Giles said, 'but we're not trying to kill it.'

'We're not?' Cordelia said, 'but-'

'We can't kill the demon proper,' Giles said, 'it's not in our dimension. We're just …. trying to make it feel unwelcome.'

The demon barked another short word.

Xander smiled. 'I don't think it's got the message yet.'

Four more demonic beetles crawled out of the shadow-stained ground, and took flight.

'It will,' Giles said. 'Demete typhonem.'

The stream of pebbles veered left, circling the tentacle clockwise.

Fifteen feet up, Buffy looked grimly at the demons flying towards her.

Cordelia's jet of water wrapped itself round the pebbles and flowed on, right to left.

Left arm wrapped tightly round the tentacle, Buffy swatted the first beetle aside, then kicked at the second, but it dodged.

Wind joined with earth and water, braiding themselves together.

Xander glanced to the right. Willow's flames were there too, taking the long way round the circle.

Hovering in front of Buffy, a third beetle raked at her head with its tentacles, its claws sliding uselessly over the smooth plastic.

The flames passed Xander, the pebbles coming up behind them.

Buffy grabbed hold of one of the tentacles and whipped the beetle downwards, smashing it into the fourth.

The remaining two demons lashed out at Buffy's knees, without visible effect.

Willow smiled. 'Action and reaction. They can't brace themselves, so-'

The pebbles reached Xander, completing the circuit, and the ring of elements blazed.

Dazzled, Xander blinked twice, then looked at the glowing ring, red hot rocks wreathed in steam, swept along by howling winds.

'Pretty,' Cordelia said flatly. 'What does it do?'

Buffy smashed the last demon out of the air, then started climbing again.

'In theory, Cordelia,' Giles said, 'whatever is appropriate. I need-'

'In theory?' Cordelia echoed. 'You mean-'

The demon's harsh voice cut her off mid-complaint.

'More beetles?' Xander guessed as dark shapes began crawling out of the pool of shadows, dozens of them. At least these were smaller, no bigger than rats.

The beetles scurried off towards the big tentacle, their footsteps like rustling leaves.

'Of course,' Willow shouted, then smiled brightly. 'It's summoning little beetles with tentacles, relatively I mean – three-foot isn't little for a beetle, the world's smallest is, um, under half a inch – but little next to it, so it must be a beetle itself, like the ones it's summoning but much bigger, with one of its tentacles stuck through the portal.'

'And this helps, how?' Cordelia asked sharply

Willow cringed, but Giles smiled reassuringly. 'It suggests possibilities. The simple approach first, I think.'

The demon beetles raced up the main tentacle.

'As this, so that,' Giles said, swiftly tracing circles in the air.

Spinning ever faster, the glowing ring shrank inwards, but even as it shrank it grew taller, a vortex of elemental force, as high as the demon.

With the beetles nipping at her heels, Buffy grabbed the sword and awkwardly slashed at the underside of the demon's maw, slicing through the thin membrane.

The demon flailed wildly, sending the little beetles flying, but Buffy held on.

The vortex tightened round the demon, a column of boiling steam and jagged gravel, driven by hurricane force winds, nearly twenty feet high.

The demon shrieked, deafeningly loud.

Buffy looked down at the vortex, its top just inches beneath her dangling feet, then tucked her knees up. 'Giles-'

'It's still healing,' Cordelia said, pointing to the swift-closing rip.

'Naturally,' Giles said. 'Anything powerful enough to breach the dimensional barriers like this-'

'Do something,' Cordelia snapped. 'Both of you.'

Glancing sideways at Cordelia, Buffy swung at the demon's neck, but the sword bounced off.

Giles pointed the bat at the demon. 'Exi nunc-'

Buffy swung again, this time severing one of the strand that made up the neck.

'-miserabilis servus oblivionis-'

The demon whipped its head backwards, slamming Buffy into the concrete, but its own mouth crumpled under the impact, the shredded membrane flapping uselessly.

'-semper sciam dolorem,' Giles thundered.

The demon wavered, then swiftly reeled itself back inside the portal.

Xander blinked as all the magical lights winked out, leaving the car park shrouded in gloom.

'Its it over,' Willow asked, 'or is it coming back?'

'Not this way,' Giles said. 'Don't move!'

Mid-step, Xander stopped, then pointed at Buffy. 'But she needs-'

'We have to terminate the spell cleanly, or there could be adverse consequences,' Giles said, then gently added. 'Buffy should be fine.'

'I am,' she said, sitting up, 'just winded.'

Giles smiled. 'There's holy water in my car. You'll need to sprinkle it over the manhole cover.'

As Buffy walked away, Willow looked at Giles. 'That was great. I was throwing fire, and- We should do it again. We-'

'No,' Giles said firmly, and Cordelia nodded. 'That would be more dangerous to us than-'

'But-'

'And it wouldn't even work the same,' Giles said. 'Magic is not like technology. It depends on intent, and on need.'

'So if we really want the vampires dead-' Willow began.

'Use a stake,' Giles said. 'Using magic risks attracting the attention of …. interested parties.'

'That would be bad, right?' Xander said, knowing what the answer would be. One of the books Margo had left behind was 'The Abuse of Magic: Cautionary Tales', an inch thick, with hundreds of gruesome illustrations

When Cordelia had stumbled upon it a few days back, it hadn't been long before she'd started reading out some of the descriptions, her voice dripping with fascinated disbelief. The deaths in that book were weird, even by hell mouth standards. Drawn in, Xander had ended up spending a few hours leafing through it with her, though they'd skipped all the dull bits.

'Potentially catastrophic,' Giles replied while Cordelia nodded approvingly. 'Take fire. You could end up a pyromaniac, wanting nothing more than to see the world burn.'

Giles paused, and looked sideways at Cordelia. 'Magic is a tool of last resort. You can be sure I will never use it lightly.'

'This enough holy water?' Buffy asked, walking back with three bottles. 'More-'

Giles nodded. 'You only need to sprinkle it. Clockwise circles, while I chant.'

Buffy walked over to the manhole cover. 'Ready.'

'Claustrum quod fractum est sarciat,' Giles chanted, while Buffy sprinkled the water. 'Portae quae apertae sunt claudant. Omnes quae arcessiti sunt nunc abeant.'

Giles tapped the cricket bat on the ground. 'Faciat.'

Xander staggered, the comforting solidity of earth gone. Without it, he was empty, a—

—but he'd always been without it. This must be some lingering after-effect of the spell. Judging from everyone's faces, it wasn't just him either. Only Buffy looked unaffected.

'Giles,' she began, 'what-'

'It must be the elemental link,' he said, adjusting his glasses. 'Metaphorically, I just pulled the chair out from underneath us, hence the psychic shock. It should pass soon.'

'Warn us, next time,' Cordelia said sharply, then looked sideways at Willow. 'That link what you were worried about?'

'It was one of the unwanted possibilities. Even though all the visual manifestations-'

'This going to happen again?' Xander asked, cutting Giles's lecture off. 'If-'

'It shouldn't have been able to happen at all,' Giles said, then looked round the car park, 'but Dame Margo did open a portal here, which was hijacked by the voice of the triune beast-'

'He means Wolfram and Hart,' Cordelia said, smiling at Buffy.

'-and the demon didn't break through until we were all here.' Giles paused, frowning. 'You did the right thing, Xander, but it's possible blowing up that portal left a scar in the dimensional barriers which this demon was able to exploit. That would explain why it waited for us; having the same five people present could theoretically strengthen-'

'Uncertain much?' Cordelia said. 'If it's going to happen again—

'It will,' Giles said, 'eventually. We've sealed this scar, but there are others, and the hell mouth is getting stronger. If we don't stop it, more weak spots will give way, as reality begins to collapse. This demon was just the first raindrop of the coming storm.'

Xander shrugged. Giles had said similarly things a few times, since Margo's visit, but he worried too much. 'Buffy killed this demon-'

'Banished,' Giles corrected him.

'-she'll kill the others,' Xander continued, smiling. 'And when you find out why the hell mouth is getting stronger, you'll stop that too.'

'But not tonight,' Cordelia said, then looked at Buffy, leathers dripping with demon slime. 'You need to get changed. Willow will tell us about the assassins, inside.'

'I will? Shouldn't we wait for Buffy? She's-'

'We need to hear both your accounts,' Giles said, ushering Willow towards the library door, then tossed Buffy a set of keys. 'For the gym. Don't let any of the slime touch bare flesh, and don't forget the sword'

Xander watched as Buffy strolled off, a faint smile curling his lips as he thought about—

Cordelia jabbed him in the ribs. 'Inside.'

* * *

'So, this woman had hacked the security cameras?' Cordelia summed up, thirty minutes later.

'No,' Willow said, sighing in frustration. 'You can't do that. Only-'

Leaning back in the library chair, Xander nodded at the familiar complaint. Willow said the same thing every time she saw a film with hackers in.

Giles frowned. 'You said the security footage was being relayed online.'

'It was. She installed a server on their office computer, and spliced the video feed into it, using some-'

'Can we-' Cordelia began.

'The woman bugged their office computer,' Buffy clarified. 'Willow explained it all to me on the way here, three times.'

'That's not quite right,' Willow said. 'She-'

Xander smiled sympathetically at Buffy. 'Let's save the technical details for Giles's diaries.'

Giles nodded, his face tinged with resignation. 'Can you tell where the footage was being relayed to?'

'No,' Willow said. 'They must have subverted a domain name server, because-'

'Let's stick to what we do know,' Cordelia said quickly. 'You two were attacked by five succubi in the mall, but Buffy killed them all, then you phoned us.'

'What were you two doing together anyway,' Willow asked, then looked at Xander. 'Isn't that a new shirt? I don't-'  
'He needed a new outfit,' Cordelia said, then looked thoughtfully at Willow. 'So do you.'

'Someone spilt their drink over me,' Xander quickly lied. 'I needed a quick change, and Cordy was there.'

'But-' Willow began,

'I told you to check for possible observation points,' Giles said, cutting her off, 'so you checked on the security cameras-'

'Willow's idea,' Buffy said, smiling.

'-and discovered that an attractive woman had persuaded the guards to let her hijack the cameras, presumably so she could watch Buffy fighting. We don't know who she is or whether she was working for anyone else.'

'Maybe she's working for Moloch,' Willow suggested. 'He's in the internet-'

'Perhaps,' Giles said. 'He's not in his book, but the online disruptions you've found don't match his modus operandi.'

Xander shrugged. 'Two demons online-'

'They'd fight,' Cordelia said, glancing at Giles.

'If they could,' Giles said. 'Moloch was always very territorial, but either way, there should be some trace of him. He may be hiding; he may be dead-'

'But he's not the big bad,' Buffy summarised. 'What is?'

'There are several possibilities,' Giles said. 'We need to consult the books.'

'Research,' Buffy said flatly. 'I never though I'd miss vampires.'

'Not you,' Giles said. 'You need to go and patrol.'

As Buffy stood up, Cordelia smiled brightly. 'And Willow will want to chat with her online friend.'

Blushing, Willow began a stuttering reply.

About to make his own excuses, Xander froze. He had almost forgotten; Malcolm had been Moloch, before history chanted. Now, Greg had taken Malcolm's place. He had to be involved in the whole business somehow – the timing was too close to be a coincidence – and he was targeting Willow.

It didn't matter whether Greg was Moloch, or the other online mastermind; he needed killing, fast, but Buffy couldn't do that until Giles had worked out what was really going on.

Reluctantly, Xander settled back in his chair. For Willow, he would tolerate the tedium.

'-so I do need to go online,' Willow said, 'to see if I can track anything down with the utilities I've got on my home computer, which I couldn't remotely log into from the mall security office computers, since-'

'You can give us a report in the morning,' Giles said, 'a non-technical report.'

Xander frowned. Willow needed to stay offline, where Greg couldn't get at her, but Giles knew about that. If he wasn't trying to stop her, there must be a reason.

As Willow stood up, Buffy looked at Cordelia. 'You coming?'

'We're staying,' Xander said quickly. If he was going to be stuck researching, Cordelia could do her share too.

Willow looked sharply back at Xander, clearly surprised, but Buffy quickly ushered her out of the library before she could comment.

* * *

Once they'd both gone Giles looked at Cordelia. 'I've not forgotten your warning, but she had a legitimate excuse, and Buffy knows to dissuade her.'

'She knows,' Xander said, confused. 'I thought we hadn't told her anything.'

'She knows Greg exists,' Cordelia patiently reminded him, ' and she knows he showed up at the same time as Moloch was scanned. We've not told her any more, but that's still enough to make her suspicious. She knows what to do.'

Giles nodded. 'If she can get Gregory's full name, that might help. Demons tend to be rather unimaginative in their choice of aliases.'

Xander smiled. 'Cordy will know. She was-'

'I've forgotten,' Cordelia said scowling. 'You heard the name too.'

'But you never forget a name.'

Giles frowned. 'Hmm. It may be nothing-'

'But it never is when people say that,' Xander interjected.

'Indeed. There are some ways of preventing your enemies from remembering your name. It's a rare skill, but-'

Mid-sentence, Giles stopped.

'But what?' Xander asked.

Giles looked uncertainly from Xander to Cordelia, and back again. 'That's a sensitive subject, but under the circumstances, maybe you should know.'

Xander started to speak, then fell silent at a warning glance from Cordelia.

'We've been speculating about the use of mind control on Ms Calender,' Giles said, after a lengthy silence.

Xander nodded. She been acting weird since last Monday, the day Moloch had been scanned, and now she'd changed again; less spacey, more … sensual.

'Have you noticed that I haven't said anything about how that might have been accomplished?'

'Of course,' Cordelia said softly.

'With good reason,' Giles said. 'I can't teach you much about how mind control works without telling you how to do it.'

'We can't do magic,' Xander protested, then hesitated. 'Can we?'

'If you meet certain criteria, and all of you do, mind control doesn't require any magical talent at all.'

'And you know how,' Cordelia said. 'I've never seen you use it.'

'I should hope not,' Giles said, looking affronted. 'I swore neither to use nor to teach those techniques, save to junior watchers. Breaking that vow could kill me.'

'Magical vows?' Xander guessed.

'Council assassins,' Giles said. 'The penalty for any use of forbidden magics is death, though-'

'You've got assassins?' Xander said, surprised. 'That's-'

'-not important right now,' Cordelia said. 'You think if you tell us too much, we'll start hypnotising people.'

'No,' Giles said. 'You'll be able to work out how to, but you must not.'

'We're not all as smart as you,' Cordelia said, glancing sideways at Xander. 'If we abuse mind control, you tell the council?'

'Not under the circumstances. Investigate the grey areas, and I will be … sorely disappointed,' Giles said calmly. 'Use true mind control, and I will kill you myself,'

Xander looked sharply at Giles. He couldn't mean that, could he? Giles—

'He means it,' Cordelia said, seemingly unruffled.

Giles nodded. 'Now, we can't learn anything from Ms Calendar alone, there are too many possibilities, but rendering one's name unmemorable is also a form of mind control. Put the two together-'

'-and we'll know who Greg really is.' Xander finished.

Giles nodded. 'The best guide is the Astus Mentis Dominationis, but-'

Xander and Cordelia looked at each other.

'You recognise the title?' Giles guessed, correctly. 'How? I-'

'Margo left us a copy,' Xander said.

'Shelved next to the books on succubi,' Cordelia said dryly. 'You'd almost think she wanted us to read it.'

'She left you that?' Giles said. 'What else did she leave you, a primer on necromancy?'

'Several thousand books,' Cordelia said. 'She didn't think much of Winston's collection.'

Xander half-smiled. Cordelia was bending the truth again. Margo hadn't thought much of Winston's collection because it was a complete fabrication, like Winston himself.

'Anyway,' Giles said after a moment, 'I left my copy is in England. I thought it was too dangerous for these shelves-'

'You've got books here on how to raise zombie armies,' Cordelia said. 'I've seen them.'

'Which should tell you just how dangerous that book is, in the wrong hands,' Giles noted dryly, 'though there are a few deliberate errors in that zombie animation ritual. If anyone tried using it, the zombies would eat them, then return to their graves.'

'Harsh,' Xander said.

'Necromancy is forbidden, on penalty of death,' Giles said, then smiled. 'But that's not our problem tonight. Without the Astus Mentis Dominationis, we'll need to chase down cryptic references in dozens of different books.'

'Then let's get started,' Xander said, smiling broadly. If he happened to learn how to bend girls to his whim along the way, well, he wouldn't do it – he remembered too clearly the horror of discovering that the witch had made him into her puppet – but knowing how, that would be cool.

* * *

'This is amazing,' Giles said the next morning, looking round the flat, 'truly amazing. Verbally triggered enchantments, and you say the kitchen door can open anywhere?'

Xander shrugged. 'It doesn't work very well.'

'That's you, not the door,' Cordelia said, then looked at Giles. 'It works, if you concentrate, but I don't trust it.'

'This is magic of the highest order,' Giles said, 'and yet-'

'We knew Margo was powerful,' Cordelia said suspiciously. 'You told us that. Why-'

'Powerful, by human standards,' Giles said. 'This … it's far beyond the magic I know. Um, you said Dame Margo wrote a booklet for you, explaining how this works?'

'Hundreds of magic commands we can use,' Xander said, smiling. 'We haven't tried half of them yet.'

'But no actual explanation,' Cordelia said, 'just a one line reference to a book we can't read.'

'Where?' Giles asked.

Cordelia pointed. 'Second shelf up, left hand side, teal cover. The title looks Arabic, but inside it's runes-'

'Not runes,' Giles said, flicking through the book. 'Akkadian cuneiform, recognisable by the distinctive wedge shapes. It's an archaic Sumerian text, annotated in Sanskrit, which is written in the Devanagari script.'

Xander looked sideways at Cordelia. 'Didn't Margo say something about-'

'-only books that we needed,' Cordelia finished.

'I recognised a shelf full of language primers,' Giles said, turning to the front of the book.

Cordelia smiled. 'Optimistic, much?'

'Dame Margo was considered a good judge-' Giles paused, surprise plain on his face. 'Apparently, she didn't cast the spell proper.'

'How can you tell?' Xander asked. 'Nothing has-'

'Not properly, proper,' Giles clarified. 'Dame Margo didn't directly enchant this room herself. Rather, the spell she cast tapped into a much older spell cast by — um, I don't t recognise the name, but context suggests a faction of the board, or possibly a precursor. Anyway, the process seems to be akin to the way this room responds to your commands, but applied on a much grander scale. Hmm, it may actually have been easier for her to do this than to provide something more proportionate using conventional-'

'Stick to what we need to know,' Cordelia said sharply.

Giles turned the page, his eyebrows rising.

'Giles!' Cordelia snapped.

'Nearly finished,' Giles mumbled without looking up.

'Think it's good news?' Xander asked Cordelia.

'In this-' Cordelia paused, then smiled approvingly. 'You're trying to manage me, aren't you.'

'No one could do that,' Xander said, smiling back. She was right, he had been trying to distract her from Giles, but—

'An admirably comprehensive introductory overview,' Giles said, putting the book down on his knee. 'Did Dame Margo have you take part in the spell casting in any way?'

'No,' Cordelia said. 'She used the title deeds. Why?'

'Then your ownership is provisional. If you were to sell this flat, or to live elsewhere for seven years, the enchantments would dissipate.'

'Margo didn't mention that,' Cordelia said flatly, then frowned, 'but she didn't actually say it wouldn't; she just implied it. What else didn't she tell us?'

'The benefits of binding?' Giles suggested. 'It would have been difficult-'

'Benefits?' Xander said. 'What can we get?'

'This book has twenty-three chapters, ' Giles said. 'Nineteen of them are about the benefits.'

'How many about the costs?' Cordelia asked.

'Apparently, they were paid by those who created the spell,' Giles said, 'but there is one chapter about the drawbacks. Principally, the binding would interfere with certain beneficial magics, and forcibly breaking it would kill you, though anything that could do that could easily kill you itself'

'And the benefits?' Xander asked.

'A suspended dimensional schism, with an option on transcendence,' Giles said thoughtfully, 'which….If it means what it seems to … the implications …'

Xander glanced at Cordelia. 'Any idea what he's talking about?'

Giles looked up. 'If my translation is correct, this flat would be suspended on the brink of falling out of reality, with you two as the sole anchors keeping it attached. It's described as a defensive measure, but to need such defences-'

Cordelia frowned. 'So if we were bound, one of us would have to stay outside, or-'

'Nothing would happen,' Giles said, 'I think, not unless you deliberately severed yourselves from this world, or it was destroyed. The flat would be tied only to you, but you are tied to the world in a myriad ways.'

'You think?' Cordelia said.

'You expect certainty?' Giles said scathingly. 'From a sight-translation of a summary paragraph written in two dead languages? It isn't normal prose either; it's as technical as any abstract, and you expect certainty?'

Cordelia opened her mouth, paused, then calmly said, 'We're going to need a full translation.'

'That could take months,' Giles warned.

'Anything else you can tell us now?' Xander asked.

'There are other benefits,' Giles said. 'The spell forms a … magical prosthesis, but getting the best use out of that could take decades.'

'Prosthetic what?' Cordelia asked suspiciously.

'Talent,' Giles said. 'Most spells require magical talent to perform. Without it, you cannot channel the mystical energies through your mind and soul-'

'But the flat can do that for us?' Xander said, putting the pieces together. 'Cool.'

'Apparently,' Giles said, 'but only while you're in this flat, and it doesn't help you learn the magic.'

'Typical,' Cordelia said, then glanced at her watch. 'You didn't come here to read our books.'

Giles nodded, looking wistfully at the many shelves. 'We need to cut through the tangled webs.'

'I don't have any secrets,' Xander said. It was Cordelia and Giles who—

'You mean Willow didn't tell you everything?' Cordelia said, smiling faintly.

'Apart from that,' Xander quickly corrected. 'She's been checking you both up online, but she's not found anything.'

'Both?' Giles said.

'You never showed Buffy any ID.'

'That could be faked. Slayers can tell when someone is …. sworn to good. That can't be faked.'

'Does Buffy know?' Cordelia asked.

'I'll tell her,' Giles said, then looked at Cordelia.

She shifted uneasily. 'I've seen what Willow will, um, would have done. I didn't want it to happen.'

'She wouldn't do anything bad,' Xander protested.

'I do believe hacking is illegal,' Giles said dryly. 'Cordelia, could it still happen?'

'Not the same way, but she's still the same person.'

'Tell us what you can, but remember, not too much.'

'She taught herself magic, with notes stolen from a dead person. You were … distracted.'

Giles looked sharply at Cordelia. 'Are you sure?'

'Yes,' Cordelia said simply.

'Really stolen?' Xander said, suspiciously, 'or did she just pick them up while investigating?'

'I didn't see,' Cordelia admitted. 'Does it matter.'

'It shows bias,' Giles said, before Xander could reply. 'You must try-'

'I've got personal issues too,' Cordelia said, 'but I know what comes first.'

'Good,' Giles said, then looked at Xander. 'She was right to be concerned. Teaching yourself magic is reckless, especially if you are talented, and Willow has quite the wrong attitude. Treat magic like science and-'

He paused, looking thoughtfully at Cordelia. 'Would she have performed any major spells?'

'One, um, maybe two.'

She would have? Xander smiled. Having more magic on their side would be good.

'Any complications?'

'The big one, she started speaking a language she doesn't know.'

Giles sighed. 'We should be able to prevent that, but the underlying attitude – When Willow finds out about your foreknowledge, she'll want to learn everything you know. We can't allow that, so we'll have to downplay the extent of your knowledge.'

'Why?' Xander said. 'What's wrong with- Oh.'

Willow wouldn't listen to Giles's warnings about knowing too much, any more than she'd listened when people had told her not to hack. She'd look for a safe way of using the information, just for the intellectual challenge, and then she'd want to test it, to prove she was right.

Giles nodded. 'I was the same as her at your age.'

'Now you understand?' Cordelia said. 'I needed to watch Willow. Why would she find out, anyway?'

'Because we will tell her,' Giles said firmly. 'We need to, to preserve trust. Hmm, many of your actions would seem to be justified, but not all. I need to know-'

'But she hasn't been watching Willow,' Xander protested, and Willow didn't need watching either. She needed to be told the truth.

'If you could tell I was, so could she,' Cordelia said. 'She's not looking hard, but she is looking.'

'I've noticed,' Giles said. 'If she didn't seem to be looking, then I'd get worried.'

'Why?' Xander asked. Giles shouldn't be thinking about how to keep secrets from Willow; he'd said himself that kind of thing was bad. True, she would experiment, but they'd be able to stop her doing anything dangerous. Giles was just falling back on watcher habits, subtly encouraged by Cordelia.

'It'd mean she'd found some other source,' Cordelia said patiently.

'I know that,' Xander said, 'but-'

Giles smiled. 'Willow has too much magical talent to be a good student of magic.'

Xander stared at him. 'What?' How-'

'Remember, I said magical talent lets you channel mystical energies through your mind and soul. With practice, you can learn to steer those energies by force of will, allowing much greater control-'

'But channelling those energies is dangerous,' Cordelia confidently surmised. 'It can, um, burn-'

'Only when people try spells that are beyond them,' Giles said. 'The bigger problem is that you are inviting those energies into yourself, and they are not passive. Magic is not technology.'

Xander looked at Cordelia, frowning uncertainly, then smiled. 'Not so fast on the corner.'

Giles sighed. 'Electricity doesn't want anything. The forces which power magic do.'

'Gods,' Xander guessed, trying to keep up.

'Sometimes,' Giles said. 'That's one of the dangers even for ritual magic – those spells that don't require talent. It's easy to think of the names you invoke as mere words of power; they aren't. However, it's not just gods. Some of the forces involved have no minds, as we understand them, but they still have desires. Even with ritual magic, this can cause problems; it did last night. For those with talent …'

Giles paused, then looked directly at Xander. 'Before Willow attempts a single spell, she should spend long years studying the contours of her own mind, learning to see herself as she truly is, without self delusion. Do that, and no alien influence will be able to take root in the shadowed corners of her soul, but does Willow have the patience?'

'No,' Xander reluctantly admitted. 'Isn't there a quicker way?'

'There are some relatively safe way of doing magic,' Giles said. 'I'll teach Willow them if necessary, and not before.'

Then he'd be teaching Willow magic soon.

'Good,' Cordelia said. 'What were you saying you wanted to know?'

'What deliberate changes have you made, or attempted?'

'I told Angel, um – How much do you both know about him?'

As Giles began speaking, Xander sat back in his chair, only half-listening. Finally, the secrets were coming out.

* * *

'The tarot cards represent certain fundamental archetypes,' Giles said, twenty minutes later. 'They're not the only such system – both major zodiacs do the same, and all are equally valid – but among the major arcana are those that are more.'

Xander frowned, not seeing the relevance. Giles was supposed to be explaining the stuff Margo had said about bells, not talking about fortune telling.

'Just as we all have a zodiac sign, so we each have an affinity with certain tarot cards. Under normal conditions, this would mean little-.'

'But we're on the hell mouth,' Cordelia said. 'What's my card?'

'The Empress,' Giles said, and Cordelia smiled.

'What else?' Xander said lightly. 'What's mine.'

'There's considerably more to the Empress than the name suggests,' Giles warned, 'and tarot affinities can change, or be changed.'

'What's mine?' Xander asked again.

'Good question,' Giles said, then paused. 'This would be easier if you'd never been near the hell mouth.'

'Why?' Xander asked, looking suspiciously at Giles. What was the problem?

'If I could answer that -' Giles paused, frowning. 'It's never actually been proven that being too categorical about this matter is unsafe … but I'd rather not experiment.'

'So you can't tell me anything?' Xander concluded, scowling.

'No,' Giles said. 'I just have to describe the elephant by its shadow.'

Xander sat back, waiting for the explanation.

'Only those with significant occult exposure-' Giles began.

'Like living on the hell mouth?' Cordelia suggested confidently.

Giles nodded. '- need be concerned about the deeper meaning, and even then, the effects are usually slight. Someone with an affinity for death might find themselves drawn to it, once or twice a year, by seeming chance. For you though, Xander, the effects are rather less predictable. You might become a magnet for … red-headed girls, or for vampires; there's no telling.'

Xander smiled at Cordelia. 'Is it girls?' She'd know if he'd been lucky with them.

'But,' Giles said, before Cordelia could reply, 'not only do you live on the hell mouth, you're helping the slayer. That alone would – well, if you had a death affinity, you'd probably witness a murder every couple of weeks. As it is, all I can say is that your life could grow strange.'

'Could?' Xander frowned. 'There's more, isn't there?'

Giles looked at him, then at Cordelia. 'You have both looked into the heart of oblivion, and stared Death itself in the face. That is no small thing.'

'But what does it mean?' Xander asked.

'Even guessing could be dangerous,' Giles said, 'and even if I knew, I doubt it would be safe to use that information. Anything else I can tell you?'

Xander looked uneasily at Cordelia. That sounded ominous, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

'Martial arts,' he said after a moment's silence, switching to a topic where he might actually learn something useful. 'You said you were going to talk about it.'

'Yes,' Giles said, then glanced at his watch, 'on the way to school. I'll give you a lift.'

'Drop us off outside the gates,' Cordelia said. 'Margo left us a training manual.'

Giles stood up, looking round for his coat. 'The Masters of Defence?'

Xander nodded as he picked up his school bag.

'Not a fashionable style,' Giles said, 'but effective enough, and obscurity can help. Hmm, you know what your biggest advantage is?'

'Superior fashion sense?' Cordelia suggested, checking her make-up in the mirror, then looked meaningfully at Giles. 'Clearly not.'

'You're fighting for your life, every time,' Giles said, as he put his coat on. 'They're fighting for their dinner. They're not mentally prepared for a serious fight, and you will be. Sometimes, that's all you need.'

'And the rest of the time?' Cordelia said, picking up her school bag.

'They're usually stronger than you, and often quicker, but only physically. Very few demons can think faster than people. Keep them off-balance, mentally, and they'll never bring their physical advantages to bear. And forget about clean fights. You don't have that luxury.'

Xander opened the door. 'You make it sound so easy.'

'Never think that,' Giles said, following him through the doorway. 'If you fight vampires or demons, you will get hurt, seriously hurt.'

'But you should see the other guy?' Cordelia suggested, closing the door behind her.

'They'll probably be in better shape than you,' Giles said. 'You can't expect to kill demons, just to drive them off.'

'If you put up a fight, they go looking for easier prey?' Xander said tentatively. 'We should be trying to kill them.'

'Leave that to Buffy,' Giles said, while Xander unlocked the outside door. 'For us, surviving is victory enough.'

Xander scowled. Giles might be happy just surviving, but he was old. Xander wasn't.

'He's right,' Cordelia said, following Giles outside. 'You saw how Buffy was thrown around last night. Could you take that?'

'No,' Xander slowly admitted, 'but they aren't all that big.'

'What's more important?' Cordelia asked, tacitly conceding the point, 'killing the demons, or your pride?'

'It's not like that,' Xander said, then paused, sorting his thoughts out.

'What is it like?' Cordelia asked sceptically, locking the flat door behind her.

'Buffy's already got Giles for the book stuff. We should-'

'No,' Giles said. 'Having watchers fight along side the slayer has been tried. It never works well. There's too much difference in their physical capabilities.'

Xander scowled. Just because the watchers hadn't been able to do it didn't mean it couldn't be done.

'Xander,' Giles said. 'You have helped Buffy, already. With training, you'll be able to help her more, but you mustn't get overconfident.'

'With Cordy around?' Xander said, forcing a smile. 'No chance. Where's the car.'

'Round the corner.'

'How are we going to do this?' Cordelia asked, as they followed Giles. 'Where-'

'Time's a problem,' Giles said. 'Buffy's training has to come first, and emergency research.'

'More excuses?' Cordelia said. 'We talked about this.'

Giles sighed. 'I'm only one man. It'd take half a dozen – which might be doable. If I trade on Dame Margo's name, I could probably get some of her people to give you personal training.'

'No way,' Cordelia said. 'They'd try to manipulate us.'

'Then all you've got is me.' Giles paused, unlocking his car. 'I will teach you, but I won't be able to supervise every minute of your training.'

Xander glanced sideways at Cordelia, who did not look happy, then smiled. 'So, what's the plan?'

Giles might not be planning to teach them properly, but anything had to be better than nothing.

'I monitor your training when I can, show you new moves, and make sure you're not developing bad habits. The rest of the time, you practice on each other. I'll have to arrange a safe way for you to practice extreme manoeuvres.'

'Extreme, how?' Cordelia said suspiciously, getting in the car.

'Choke holds, cervical locks, eye gouging,' Giles said. 'You'll need to practice all of them, and on live opponents – dummy's don't fight back – but if you do them right, you'll kill your opponent, which makes it a little difficult to find practice partners.'

'You think?' Xander said, as he got in the car. 'Um, how is eye gouging fatal?'

'Very few demons can survive having their brains puréed, and with the eye gone…' Giles smiled meaningfully.

Xander looked thoughtfully at him. He'd seen demons do worse, but they were demons; Giles was just a librarian. How could he talk about it so calmly?

'I did tell you,' Cordelia said, smiling.

Xander shook himself. 'How will we practice then? Demons?'

'There were factions in the watchers that took that approach. They are no longer with us,' Giles said, checking his rear view mirror. 'You can learn the same way I did.'

'How?' Xander asked.

'It's really quite simple,' Giles began, 'though ingenious. We will…'

Listening to the explanation, Xander smiled. It wouldn't be easy, but once he learned to fight, he'd be able to kill demons twice his size. If that didn't impress Buffy, nothing would.

* * *

Later that morning, Xander turned round the corner, then hesitated. Buffy and Willow were both at their lockers, just as expected, and Cordelia was at the other end of the school.

It was the perfect set up. All he had to do was stick to the script and he'd be able to cut away half the tangle of secrets. Only half though, and it'd mean lying to Willow, but then he couldn't tell her the whole truth. Margo had made sure of that, trapping him into vows of secrecy.

Xander shrugged. He couldn't tell her everything, but at least he could tell her something, and stop her chasing after non-existent secret societies.

It wouldn't matter if she told her internet friend either. As Giles and Cordelia had eventually conceded, the demon already knew who Cordelia was. If it found out about her foreknowledge, it might actually make her safer; fewer assassins, more kidnappers.

Smiling, he walked up behind Buffy and Willow. 'You missed a lot last night.'

'A lot of dull-' Buffy said, turning round to face him. 'Why the smile?'

'Giles got the truth out of Cordy. Seems he's not the first-'

Xander paused and looked conspiratorially up and down the corridor, but no one else was paying attention.

Buffy leaned closer, just as Cordelia had said she would.

'-watcher she's met. Giles wasn't pleased, said she shouldn't have stayed loyal to someone who abandoned her.'

'Cordelia, loyal?' Willow said sceptically. 'That could explain the notes, if she's been acting as his mouthpiece, but-'

'What notes?' Buffy asked, looking from Xander to Willow and back.

'The ones she's been sending to Angel.' Willow slowly ground to a halt under Buffy's stare.

'Can we tell her the truth now?' Xander asked, trying to remember what came next. Cordelia and Giles hadn't been able to plan out the entire conversation, but they had given him suggestions for all the likely paths, suggestions which should keep Buffy from getting angry with him.

'What notes?' Buffy repeated sharply.

'We didn't want to worry you,' Willow said, looking nervously at the floor, 'and then we had to cover up the cover up, and-'

'Calm down,' Buffy said. 'We're friends. You can tell me everything.'

Xander nodded, then muttered, 'I said we should trust her.'

Willow looked uncertainly at Xander. 'Are you sure Cordelia's telling the truth?'

'Giles is,' Xander said. 'She met this watcher, who showed her visions. Giles called him a disgrace to the council.'

'She's seen the future?' Buffy asked.

Xander shrugged. 'Before it changed. She knew you'd date Owen; she didn't know about, well-'

Buffy looked directly at Xander. 'You're going to tell me everything.'

'Now?' Xander said. 'We've got, um-'

'History,' Willow supplied. 'We're going to be late.'

Buffy smiled. 'I think we can miss one lesson.'

'Slayer stuff comes first, right?' Xander replied.

'Xander,' Willow said disapprovingly, then looked nervously up at the clock. 'We can't. I can't, I mean, I know-'

'Just go,' Xander said. 'I'll tell you later.'

He watched as she scurried off to class, then looked at Buffy. 'Not the library. Giles is on a research kick.'

'The music room,' Buffy said.

Xander smiled appreciatively as she walked away, then froze. He was going to spend the next hour alone with Buffy, and she'd be listening eagerly to everything he said. It was the perfect set up.

'Coming?' Buffy called over her shoulder.

Xander shook himself, then hurried after her.

* * *

In the library, ninety minutes later, Xander buried his head in his folded arms, and groaned. Buffy had listened to him, all right, and she'd looked gorgeous doing it, but she'd only been interested in what he had to say. She hadn't even noticed his hints about his feelings.

'Bad morning?' Cordelia asked sympathetically.

'I had to trick Willow, and Buffy didn't-'

Xander paused, looking thoughtfully up at Cordelia. It had been the perfect set up, and Cordelia had arranged it. Coincidence, or was she still trying to manipulate events?

'How'd she take it?' Cordelia asked.

'All part of the hell mouth fun. She's … not happy, but-'

'And me? What does she think about me?'

Xander scowled at her. 'She thinks you were used. Satisfied?'

'Cordelia was,' Giles said, emerging from his office. 'What Winston did was quite unconscionable. Where's Buffy?'

'She said she was going to talk to Willow. Don't know where.'

'The mall, of course,' Cordelia said, then looked at Giles. 'More watcher business?'

'Another off-the-record group,' Giles confirmed. 'They were apparently reporting to. …'

Xander tuned out. Giles had been getting a lot of phones calls from other watchers lately, most of them on missions he'd never been told about. Cordelia said it was because the council had fallen apart – the normal lines of communication had broken down, but half of them had Giles's number, in case they needed to call in the slayer.

It didn't seem like a good way to run things, but Xander didn't really care. As long as the watchers stayed away from Sunnydale, it wouldn't affect him.

Giles dropped a heavy book in front of Xander. 'If you're staying in here-'

Dave pushed open the library doors, one hand rubbing his temple, then relaxed.

'-this book should be suitable,' Giles said smoothly.

'Mr Giles,' Dave said, 'you got any books on, um, the occult?'

'A few,' Giles said. 'Could you be more specific.'

Dave shuffled nervously. 'Something on demon's names.'

'A project?' Giles asked.

'A name I came across, not real, of course-'

'What name?'

'Ig-' Dave began, then fell to his knees,his face contorted in pain.

'You don't have to say the name,' Giles said quickly.

'Did you know that was going to happen?' Dave asked, wincing as he clambered back to his feet.

'No.'

'But you're not surprised. You're not just a librarian, are you?'

'No denial,' Cordelia said, looking at Xander. 'He must be in deep trouble.'

'Collapsing like that is a big clue,' Xander said, half-smiling. Giles didn't look worried, so it couldn't be anything really serious.

'I have hobbies,' Giles said non-committally, then pointed to the counter. 'There's pen an paper over there. Try writing the name, but make sure to hold the pen loosely.'

'Or what?' Dave asked, walking over to the counter.

'It should be safe,' Giles said. 'In most cases, only the sound of the name is proscribed.'

Then Giles looked at Xander and Cordelia. 'The wards Dame Margo placed on this library,' he said softly, 'are still in place. Among other things, they prevent the speaking of dangerous names.'

Xander frowned thoughtfully. The only demon Dave should know about was the one in the internet, but they'd named Moloch in the library, several times, and nothing had happened.

'It's not Moloch, is it?' Cordelia half-whispered.

'I can still hear you,' Dave said, looking warily at the pen, then began to scribble down the name.

After a moment, he paused, shook the pen, then started again.

'Cordelia,' Giles said. 'Could you fetch 'Identifying the Unnameable,' both volumes? Third bookcase on the left, second shelf down.'

Cordelia scowled. 'But Dave's-'

'No,' Dave said, holding up the paper. 'When I try to write the name, the pen refuses to work. Anything else, no problem, but that name, no ink. You know why, don't you.'

'This library is protected,' Giles said, as Cordelia hurried off to fetch the book. 'Some names are dangerous to speak. They draw the attention of demons, and worse, but they cannot be spoken here.'

'They're real then,' Dave said. 'I knew it. Who are you, really?'

'An occult expert,' Giles said. 'That's all you need to know.'

'A good one,' Xander added.

Giles sighed, then looked at Dave. 'Where did you find this name?'

'It's someone I met online recently. They seemed great; they really understood-'

'But?' Giles prompted.

'Then they started hinting about making dreams come true by hacking into the computational underpinnings of reality.'

Dave paused at Giles's blank look. 'Magic, dressed up as technology, but Fritz bought it. He only reads hard SF.'

'Unlike you,' Xander guessed.

'I read fantasy, and horror,' Dave confirmed. 'Tolkien, and Lovecraft. I can recognise the supernatural when I see it.'

Xander smiled. 'How long have you lived in this town?'

Dave stared at him. 'You mean this is one of those places? It can't be. I'd have noticed.'

'Our school newspaper has an obituary column.'

'Before you tell him anything else,' Giles said, 'perhaps you should wait until we've confirmed it's safe. With some demons, speaking their name allows them to touch your mind.'

Xander nodded, remembering what he'd read the previous night. Actual mind control through that channel would require staggering power, but reading Dave's most recent memories would be much easier.

'David,' Giles asked, 'were there any particular dreams your friend was offering.'

Dave looked away. 'That's another thing. My dreams have gotten … explicit, which is too much of a coincidence. I don't watch porn-'

Xander looked sceptically at Dave.

'Well, not hard porn. I wouldn't know where to buy it. These dreams aren't natural. I can remember them too clearly, details I didn't have the imagination to make up, and then I started getting flashbacks. I'd look at a girl, and start thinking about her naked, and what I could do to her.'

'Normal adolescent behaviour,' Giles said, 'in moderation. I take it this is immoderate.'

'Detailed three-D images, and touch too,' Dave said quietly. 'The worst, no, the second-worst part is, it's starting to feel normal to look at a girl and immediately imagine taking her up against the wall. I know it isn't me, I know it, but I can feel myself slipping.'

'Corrosive personality modification,' Giles said grimly. 'Your mind is being slowly rewritten in the demon's image. An exorcism should work, but there may be permanent damage. You said second worst?'

'The dreams are getting kinkier. Cacti would hurt, going in, and licking the blood up-' Dave, paused, swallowed nervously, then looked down at the floor and quietly said, 'Last night, I dreamed about doing that with the girl across the street.'

'You will not look at me,' Cordelia said firmly, emerging from the stack, books in hand. 'You will not even think about looking at me, ever.'

Then Cordelia looked at Giles. 'Think this is the same demon that's got Ms Calendar?'

As Giles nodded, Dave looked up at Xander, his face a study in torment. 'The girl's only ten! Ten! I'd rather die than have that become normal, and what if it doesn't stop there?'

'Giles will cure-' Xander began, then stiffened. 'Willow! The same demon's after her too. We've got to-'

'Identify it first.' Giles said.

'But-'

'Firstly, if I attempt an exorcism without knowing what I'm exorcising, I could easily wipe Willow's mind clean,' Giles said firmly. 'Secondly, Dave, you developed a headache when you approached this library which cleared up when you came in, correct?'

'Yes, what-'

'Willow has displayed no such symptom, suggesting the demon hasn't started on her yet.'

'Saving her for later?' Cordelia suggested, putting the books down on the table.

'We can only hope,' Giles said, then looked gently at Xander. 'I'll do everything I can for Willow, and the others. I promise.'

Xander looked back at him. 'You'd better. I want this demon dead.'

'We'll help you kill it,' Cordelia said, then glared at Dave. 'And remember, if you start acting out any of your deranged fantasies, you will die.'

Dave edged away from her, fear plain in his eyes.

'Frightening him won't help,' Giles said, putting a notepad and pen down next to the book. 'Dave will need all his concentration if we are to identify this demon.'

'Concentration?' Dave said. 'Isn't it just an index?'

'That would be a recipe for disaster,' Giles said. 'Open volume one, follow the instructions.'

Dave sat down, turned to the first page, then frowned.

'Paragraph one,' he read. 'If the final syllable of the name ends with a fricative, write the number thirty-seven on the first line of your notebook, then turn to paragraph 438. If not, write sixty-three on said line, then turn to paragraph 247.'

Confused, Xander looked hopefully at Giles

'Paragraph five,' Dave read. 'Add the numbers on the second, fifth and thirtieth lines of your notebook, then divide by thirty-seven. Write the last digit of the remainder on the next free line of your notebook, then multiply said remainder by thirteen, add the product to 924, and turn to that paragraph.'

'Sounds like the tax code,' Cordelia said. 'How-'

'It's an algorithm,' Dave said, smiling delightedly. 'It turns the unspeakable names into code numbers, without ever needing to use the actual names, but someone had to know the names to produce the book. How-'

'Extensive security precautions,' Giles said, 'There hasn't been an incident for nearly seventy years.'

'Couldn't you reconstruct the names from the book, work the algorithm backwards?'

'Theoretically, but not in practice. Read the book, silently.'

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Dave looked up. 'Code number 35376.'

Giles picked up the second volume, flicked to the right page, and blanched.

'Category thirteen,' he said. 'This is not good.'

'That bad?' Cordelia said, eyebrows raised.

'It's not a demon; it's worse.'

'Dark god?' Dave suggested.

'Possibly,' Giles said, 'if we're lucky. It's known proclivities limit the field, but not enough.'

Xander scowled. 'You mean, you still don't know.'

'I will, soon,' Giles said patiently. 'That book is effectively a list of unspeakable names, scrambled together, with instructions for unscrambling them, but some names are so powerful, they can unscramble themselves.

'Category thirteen?' Xander guessed.

Giles nodded. 'For those, we split the procedure across three books, and set up protective circles. It shouldn't take long; there aren't that many being in the category. Cordelia, you'll find a book on leprechauns in the stacks. Last bookcase but one on the left, third shelf from bottom. '

'Leprechauns?' Cordelia asked.

'It's a code,' Giles said. 'Xander, there's a dissertation on the homoiousian heresies in my office desk drawer.'

'On it,' Xander said.

* * *

Two minutes later, he rushed back into the main library, holding the dissertation high.

'Sit there,' Giles said, pointing to a chair, surrounded by a chalk circle. 'You can write on your knee.'

'You sure I can't have a chair?' Dave asked.

Xander looked over at him, then blinked. Dave was sitting cross-legged in the middle of seven concentric circles, a pentagram, and a six-pointed star, all decorated with runes.

'Dave is the compromised party,' Giles said, 'your circle is just for insulation, and Dave, I've already explained about chairs.'

'I'm reading one of the books?' Cordelia said, looking down at Giles.

Giles nodded. 'If anything does go wrong, I need to be free to intervene. The books claim nothing can go wrong-'

'And we know what that means,' Xander finished.

Cordelia sat down, opening her book, then frowned. 'What's the code? This-'

'Read the fifth and penultimate letters of each line,' Giles said. 'One double page per paragraph.'

Opening his book, Xander began slowly reading the instructions.

'Fifty-two,' Dave said.

'Um, seventeen,' Cordelia replied.

'Ninety-three,' Xander said after a few seconds, writing 'six' down on his notepad. This was a bizarre system, but if it worked, they'd soon know which demon was stalking Willow, and then they could kill it, before it did anything to her.

* * *

'The abomination beyond the wall,' Giles said slowly. 'We can't hope to kill that, but-'

'How bad is it?' Xander asked.

'It is said to be one of the whisperers in darkness that have found purchase in our reality.'

'Like the shadow creature we saw in the morgue?' Cordelia said, after a long moment's silence.

'Yes,' Giles said, 'but that was reaching in from beyond. These have made themselves a part of this universe, a fundamental part. They cannot be slain, nor even banished, for that would rip a hole in reality itself, through which worse things would flood, but they must be fought.'

Then Giles smiled faintly. 'The books Dame Margo left me have been very informative.'

'More bad guys,' Cordelia said. 'Great. They work for Omega, right.'

'Indirectly,' Giles confirmed. 'Dame Margo said they are as maggots crawling across the rotting floor of the court of oblivion, far beneath the notice of even the least of the terrors that cringe before Omega.'

Giles smiled wanly. 'She was trying to cheer me up at the time.'

'Forget that,' Xander said impatiently. 'How do we fight this thing.'

'We duel its shadows,' Giles said. 'All the whisperers are bound, one way or another; none are walking free. The First is sealed on the borders of death, the Ebon Maw is chained in the fires of Algol, and the Abomination is trapped behind a wall in the dreamlands, beyond the plateau of Leng.'

'Dreamlands?' Dave muttered. 'Leng?'

'Trapped behind a wall,' Cordelia began. 'Doesn't-'

'The wall has only one side. Climb over it, tunnel under it, drill through it; you'll find yourself back where you started,' Giles said. 'The abomination is on the other side, the side that does not exist. It cannot escape while the dreamlands survive.'

'Where are they,' Xander asked. 'That wall needs fixing.'

'Seventy steps to the caverns of flame, then seven hundred to the gate of deep slumber,' Dave said, 'but that fiction. It can't be true, can it?'

'Unfortunately,' Giles said slowly, 'half of it is loosely based on truth. The details, he invented, but-'

'This abomination,' Dave said, 'it's the one in 'The Shadow of the Wall', isn't it?'

Giles hesitated, then nodded.

'The unliving embodiment of depravity,' Dave said, shuddering. 'Not just human depravity, but of all perversions that can be conceived by any mind, sane or insane. To know its name is to be damned, for it can possess all who even think of it. That's what's been dabbling its fingers in my brain?'

Cordelia stared at him, puzzlement plain on her face.

'I'm afraid so,' Giles said, 'but we can help you.'

'How does he know that?' Xander asked.

'I've read Lovecraft,' Dave said quietly. 'Got all twenty of his books: 'The Colour out of Space', 'The Shadow out of Time', 'The King in Yellow', 'The Laughter of Mad Gods' – but if even half of them are true… '

'Lovecraft,' Giles explained, 'was a minor American writer who, in search of inspiration, decided to sleep by a standing stone near Arkham, reputed to mark the grave of a witch, but that which lie buried there is neither human, nor truly dead. Its dreams touched Lovecraft's, and he woke changed.'

'They locked him in the Dunwich asylum,' Dave said. ''He spent the next thirty years there, writing stories of cosmic horror. One of the guards smuggled the work out, published it under his own name. There was quite a scandal when people found out the truth, but money talks. They called him America's greatest horror writer.'

Then Dave laughed, but his laughter rang hollow.

'We couldn't suppress the books,' Giles said softly, 'but we reached an understanding with the editors, and his private nurse was one of our people. None of the spells listed in those books will actually work, and all the names are, at best, subtly wrong.'

'I don't care about the books,' Xander said, 'or the dreamlands. What about Willow?'

'What about us?' Cordelia said. 'Willow told us the name of her online boyfriend. If that name-'

'It's disguised,' Dave said, 'but I know demons are supposed to like acronyms, so-'

'Insightful,' Giles said, 'but we don't need the details. Cordelia, neither of you could remember the name Willow told you, correct?'

Cordelia nodded.

'Then you're both clean. The name is the shadow of the abomination beyond the wall. Because you've sworn the great oath, it can find no purchase on your soul, and the name, even disguised, evades your memory.'

'Willow,' Xander reminded them. 'We've-'

'Two things,' Giles said. 'We are not facing the abomination proper. If that were loose, we would all have been overcome by its insane lusts, even in this warded sanctuary. We are facing some kind of herald or avatar. We don't know how it got in the internet, but-'

'The dreamlands are supposed to be an embodiment of the collective mind of humanity, sort of,' Dave said. 'Cyberspace is too, metaphorically. Could-'

'Possibly,' Giles said, 'though your metaphysics is slightly off. However, as I was about to say, we don't need to know how it got in the internet. Heralds and avatars can be killed, whether in the physical world, or in the dreamlands, but I do not know how to fight in this cyberspace. There, Dave might be able to help us.'

'I will,' Dave said. 'I want to help.'

'Secondly,' Giles said, 'even the agents of the abomination can consume a mind in seconds. They prefer slow corruption, it engenders more despair, but if we approach Willow carelessly, it could devour her before our eyes. We need a plan.'

'If we kill the herald, will that free Willow,' Xander asked. It worked that way in stories, half the time.

'It might,' Giles said, 'if we do it the right way, and if her infection is indeed still latent.'

'And me?' Dave said.

'You are being ridden by a nascent herald,' Giles said. 'That requires a full exorcism, fuelled by a major sacrifice.'

'What do I have to cut off?'

'Not that kind of sacrifice,' Giles said, 'but you'll have to wait. We need to kill the primary herald's host first. That should sunder the herald itself from reality, and the psychic shock should incapacitate the latent heralds. That will give my colleagues time to use you as the focus for a mass exorcism.'

Cordelia scowled. 'More watchers? We-'

'They won't come here. I'll send Dave to them,' Giles said. 'I might be able to free him, but using him to free the rest via sympathetic magic? That is beyond my power.'

'No,' Dave said, 'You've got to cure me now, before-'

'While you're in the library,' Giles said, 'the infection cannot progress. The abomination has no power within these walls, not while it remains bound, and I will not permit you to leave here until adequate safeguards have been arranged.'

'Who do we need to kill?' Xander said, smiling.

Giles nudged his glasses. 'The evidence is unclear. Ms Calendar was showing symptoms of mind control before Moloch could have been released, but the only demons the abomination is recorded as using are succubi. It hasn't changed its ways in over ten thousand years; it's not likely to now, unless it had no choice.'

Cordelia shrugged. 'Ms Calendar spread the name around online. When Moloch was released, he saw it.'

'Possible,' Giles said. 'She wouldn't have spread the name indiscriminately, but-'

'Why not?' Xander asked, puzzled. 'That-'

'If the abomination takes the gloves off, so will its rivals, and its enemies,' Giles said. 'We're fairly sure it won't do that until it thinks it's got a guaranteed victory.'

'Do the heralds have some kind of hive mind, or are they independent instantiations?' Dave asked thoughtfully. 'And can I get out of this circle now.'

'No,' Giles said. 'Not until the code books have been safely put away. Hmm, as far as we can tell, the nascent heralds are isolated, from each other as well as their source. They follow the abominations' wishes because they are copies of it, not because they are receiving orders from beyond the wall, but that's just the initial stage'

'And after that?' Cordelia prompted.

'We try not to let it get that far,' Giles said dryly. 'Three aren't many cases, but it seems that once the host's soul has been completely subsumed by the herald, it seeks to transcend to local quasi-godhood. We've always stopped these incident before that stage can be completed, but the theorists claim the heralds would require godlike power to penetrate the wall and communicate with the abomination proper.'

'How long does all that take?' Dave asked.

'A few weeks,' Giles said. 'The first stage could be completed in minutes, if the heralds weren't so sadistic. The second stage … godhood in a month is amazingly quick, but that's what the records suggest. Fortunately, it seems only one herald ever attempts to transcend at a time, perhaps because-'

'So we can grab one of the infected people without the others knowing,' Xander said, concentrating on the important point. 'Let's go get Fritz.'

'Unfortunately,' Giles said, 'mundane methods work just as well for them as for us. If Fritz has arranged to contact Ms Calendar-'

'Bad plan,' Xander quickly conceded, 'got a better one?'

'You know anything about what they're doing, Dave?' Cordelia asked, then frowned. 'Giles, should we really trust him? The-'

'It couldn't have known about the defences on this library,' Giles said. 'The herald in Dave is out of action, and the others don't know-'

'But they will,' Xander said. 'We've got a deadline.'

If they could do something before Dave was due to contact the others, they'd be able to surprise the heralds. Take too long, and the heralds would know they'd been spotted.

Giles nodded. 'Dave, your memories will have been edited, how heavily I-'

'But if you know it's a trap,' Dave said, 'you can turn the tables on them.'

'You sure they don't know about the library defences?' Cordelia said. 'Willow-'

'Did not show any symptoms,' Giles reminded her.

'Oh, yes. So all they know about us is what they saw last night? We can bluff them.'

'Maybe,' Giles said uncertainly. 'You will have impressed them, but being overestimated can be dangerous.'

'Last night,' Dave muttered, 'What did you do?'

'Nothing you need to know about,' Giles said. 'Do you know anything about their plans?'

'Fritz was saying something about building a robot body, at Calax, well-'

'Calax Research and Development?' Xander said. 'It closed down last year.'

Then he noticed Cordelia and Giles staring disbelievingly at him.

'What, I can't have information sometimes?' he said, smiling in mock surprise, then admitted, 'My uncle worked there, in a floor-sweeping capacity.'

'The robot has to be bait,' Giles said. 'No herald of the abomination would be satisfied with a metal body.'

'Not that kind of robot,' Dave said, 'more an android. Fritz said I-, um, the herald, told him it was a new development that would revolutionise the sex trade – your ideal partner, made to order.'

'Brainwashed employees with new faces,' Cordelia suggested. 'I've seen some lifelike robots, but-'

'Or maybe succubi,' Giles said, pushing his glasses up. 'If there are any there, they'll try to keep the place running, even after we banish the heralds.'

'Not in my town,' Cordelia said, 'but we'll need Buffy to fight that many.'

Giles nodded. 'Is she coming back here?'

'Yes' Cordelia said, glancing at the clock. 'They'll be on there way back soon.'

'I'll go intercept them,' Xander said. Once Willow was in the library, she'd be safe, and with Buffy, they'd be able to start fighting back.

'No. Willow knows you too well,' Cordelia objected. 'If the thing inside her suspects anything …'

'You get her then,' Xander said quickly. It didn't matter who went, as long as someone did.

'Didn't you say Willow was latent?' Dave asked, looking puzzled.

Giles sighed. 'She was last night, but the historical reason is clear: if she realises anyone suspects anything, the herald will almost certainly awake.'

'Why,' Dave asked. 'How would it know, if-'

Giles sighed. 'In the last ten thousand years, there have been under five hundred recorded incidents where the name of the abomination has been used. That's enough to know how dangerous its heralds are; it's not enough to know how they do what they do.'

'Ten thousands years,' Dave muttered. 'Your records go back that far?'

'That is no concern of yours,' Giles said sharply. 'Can you remember anything else useful Fritz or the abomination said?'

'No. It's weird. When-' Dave paused, then smiled. 'But it should be possible to recover most of the conversation. I just need to hack-'

'You don't think Moloch might notice?' Cordelia objected.

'You said he was online,' Dave replied. 'Is he possessing computers in general, or just the internet?'

'Neither,' Giles said. 'He was scanned in from a book-'

'And he spread across network links from there?' Dave said. 'Then that might not work. Fritz and me, we keep archives of our online conversations. Um, do the bits of Moloch in each computer form an hive mind, or is it like the heralds?'

'I've no idea,' Giles admitted. 'This is an unprecedented situation. Theoretically, he shouldn't be able to do anything, even if he is aware, as long as the computer isn't connected up.'

Giles paused, and glanced at Xander. 'The archives may have been tampered with, but Willow-'

'Knows how to undelete stuff,' Xander said, smiling as he realised the plan. 'Your parent's home, Dave?'

'My Mom's working until nine,' Dave said, pulling out his keys. 'There's no one else'

'Can't we just wait for Buffy?' Cordelia said. 'She-'

'Of course,' Giles shouted. 'Why didn't I see it? Moloch and the heralds, the parallels are obvious. If we adapt the procedure we can dismount the herald.'

Cordelia glanced at Xander, then smiled. 'Can we have that in English?'

'I was planning on re-imprisoning Moloch,' Giles said, 'but for that we'd need to operate in cyberspace. If instead, we simply exorcise him, he'll take physical form somewhere nearby, but not the herald. Left behind, without any souls to feed on, it will whither and die, as long as it's not already finished consuming Moloch;s soul. We'll need to use sympathetic magic to target all computers, but since they're soulless; it'll be much easier than doing the same with people.'

'But then you still need to kill Moloch,' Dave said. 'Isn't he supposed to be a demon king?'

'And what if the herald has already eaten his soul?' Cordelia asked.

'Then it gets harder,' Giles said. 'The herald will still need a physical body, or the computer equivalent, but as it approaches transcendence, it will become increasingly difficult to destroy that body. We may need to call in help.'

'Another Margo?' Xander asked. 'She didn't seem the computer type.'

If the Board tried fighting in cyberspace, they'd certainly kill the monster, going by Margo's performance, but they'd probably wreck half the world's computers doing it.

'When she was born, telephones were the big new thing, ' Giles said, 'but her people have a wide reach. They should be able to find a competent advisor, if it comes to that. Hopefully, it won't.'

Then Giles smiled. 'If we can banish Moloch from the internet, he won't be much of a threat with his soul half-eaten.'

'So we get Buffy and Willow on board, then exorcise Moloch fast,' Cordelia summed up. 'Do we need Dave's computer, because you know-'

'The heralds can't have been expecting us to go to Dave's now,' Giles said. 'They would have had to predict everything that happened after he came in here, which should be beyond them. Even if Dave's missed a scheduled contact, assuming that meant we'd discovered their plans would be an astounding leap.'

'It would,' Cordelia conceded, then smiled, 'but that info won't help us exorcise Moloch, and they might have ambush set up there for some other reason. Get rid of Moloch first, then grab Dave's computer while the other heralds are still wondering what happened.'

'Why would they-' Dave began.

'To mess with your mind,' Cordelia said. 'Make you forget everything, then have a succubus jump you when you get home.'

'Possible,' Giles said. 'Cordelia, your strategy is sound, but we need the computer itself. Moloch will not be in every computer equally. His exorcism will work best if we use one he has a strong connection with, and the ones with the strongest connections will be Ms Calender's, Fritz's, and Dave's.'

'And we only get one shot,' Xander said, standing up. 'Let's go.'

'Not yet,' Giles said. 'We can wait ten minutes for Buffy.'

'But Willow-'

'The clock is ticking,' Giles said. 'It's not ticking quite that fast. We'll have at least two hours' warning before any of them transcend.'

'What kind of warning?' Cordelia asked quickly.

'A transcending herald warps every unprotected mind within a few miles, reducing all those under its shadow to rutting beasts, no longer human,' Giles quoted. 'We'd be able to hear the screaming from here.'

'But they can't get in here,' Xander said, smiling faintly. If that happened, it would be bad, but they would survive.

'Not at first,' Giles said. 'Theoretically, the wards on this library should hold up under the psychic pressure, but the theory hasn't been tested in the field, It's a moot point anyway; once the transcendence is complete, the abomination will break free, and every single mind on the planet will succumb to its dark desires'.

'Not gong to happen,' Xander said flatly. 'We've got Buffy.'

'We will win,' Giles agreed, 'but at what price? This is no common vampire or demon we face; it is a menace before which even gods quail. Do not take it lightly.'

'We get it,' Cordelia said reassuringly. 'What do you want us to do?'

* * *

'Shouldn't we be sneaking?' Xander asked, as they walked up to Dave's front door.

'Only if we wanted to look suspicious,' Giles said wearily. 'We've got the keys.'

Buffy smiled sympathetically. 'Don't be so tense. Willow will be fine.'

'You don't know Willow. It'll take her months to get over the trauma, ' Xander said earnestly, then smiled, 'of missing a whole afternoon's classes.'

'An admirable attitude,' Giles said, his voice tinged with approval, then pushed the door open

'I'll go first,' Buffy said quickly, and went in, closely followed by Giles.

A few paces behind them, Xander scowled. Willow was not fine; she was stuck in the school library with Dave and Cordelia, unable to leave in case some insane abomination turned her into a raging nymphomaniac It didn't get much worse.

Perhaps he should have stayed with her. He knew how to distract her, and he could keep Cordelia—

—but if Willow was distracted she wouldn't be able to write the explanation of cyberspace Giles needed, so he could adapt the spell. If he'd stayed, he wouldn't have been able to anything useful; here, at least he could carry the computer for them. That way, Buffy and Giles would have their hands free, if there was an emergency.

It wasn't as if Cordelia would do anything to Willow, either. That was just habit talking. She might have Willow-issues, but Cordelia's priorities were in the right place. She'd keep random interruptions from disturbing Willow, and make sure the cyberspace explanation was actually in plain English, not the jargon only Willow and Dave understood.

Anyway, if he'd stayed in the library, as Cordelia and Giles had suggested, he'd have only ended up wishing he'd gone to get Dave's computer instead.

At the top of the stairs, Buffy paused, then silently pointed to a blue door on the left.

Giles nodded.

Buffy gently pushed the door open, then dropped into a defensive crouch, waiting.

When nothing came rushing out, she straightened back up, then peered cautiously round the door. 'Can't see anyone,' she reported, 'and the computer's switched off, no lights.'

'Stay alert,' Giles said, stepping into Dave's room. 'Xander, can you unplug-'

A blur fell from the ceiling, shrouded by plaster dust, pinning Giles to the floor.

Xander edged forwards uncertainly, studying the creature. He could only see its back, but it looked almost like two people, joined at the waist. Both halves had the same grey skin, but above the waist, it was heavily muscled, with broad hairy shoulders, clearly male. Below the waist though, it was equally clearly female, long smooth legs, leading up to a perfect—

—but admiring a sex demon's curves just had to be a bad idea, and anyway, he'd seen almost as much on the beach.

'Stay here,' Buffy said quickly, holding Xander back, then charged in.

A single graceful leap, and the creature was facing Buffy.

Xander gulped. The creature had only a carpet of writhing maggots where a face should be, mouths in its palms, and eyes on its chest, but the worst bit was its groin. It had a mouth down there, a vertical slash lined with blood-red fangs, and from that mouth protruded a … tongue, nearly four foot long.

Buffy feinted left, then kicked at the demon's right hip, sending it sprawling.

The demon rose smoothly to its feet, sparks crackling along its tongue.

'Cut its head off,' Giles said, standing back up.

'What is it?' Xander asked, as Buffy smashed the bedroom mirror with her elbow. 'You said-'

'It was human,' Giles explained. 'The abomination-'

'Willow,' Xander said softly, eyes widening in understanding.

The demon lunged at Buffy, but she sidestepped, slashing at it with a mirror shard.

Giles started sidling round the edge of the bedroom.

Grim-faced, Xander copied Giles, slowly edging his way to behind the demon.

Buffy struck the demon again and again, brushing aside its feeble defences, and it retreated before her.

'It shouldn't-' Giles muttered, then realisation spread across his face. 'Buffy! It's faking-'

Wreathed in crackling sparks, the demon's tongue lashed out, striking Buffy's chest dead centre.

She staggered backwards three steps, then collapsed.

Behind Giles, the computer lit up.

'Moloch,' Xander warned, pointing.

'No lights,' Moloch quoted mockingly, its laughter filling the room. 'We control the lights, as we shall control all things.'

Then Moloch spoke a single word, and darkness fell.

* * *

The ceiling drifted into focus.

Blinking, Xander sat – tried to sit up, but he was tied down, his hands fastened above his head. Moloch must have knocked them out with some magic spell, then taken them captive.

Xander looked round, trying to work out where he was.

On his right, tools lay scattered across a work bench, the chisel and pliers spotted with dried blood.

On his left, Giles dangled from two manacles high in the wall, his feet precariously balanced on a wooden box.

Behind Xander, Fritz laughed.

'Fritz?' Xander said, thinking quickly. 'They caught you too?'

If he could just get Fritz talking, that'd give Buffy more time to rescue him and Giles.

'Rupert already tried that,' Ms Calendar said, sauntering round to stand in front of Xander.

'New look?' Xander choked out. A translucent top and skin-tight black shorts was not a combination he'd ever imagined any of his teachers wearing, but on Ms Calender it looked good, despite her age.

'New me,' she said, smiling, 'and soon a new Fritz. Soon, a whole new world, courtesy of Moloch the great.'

'Aren't you going to ask where Buffy is?' Fritz said, moving next to Ms Calendar.

Xander looked at him, noting the casual, almost absent-minded, way Fritz had put one arm round his teacher and started fondling her breast. He would never have dared do that a week ago, nor would Ms Calender have let him, and she certainly wouldn't have put her hand atop his, encouraging him.

The abomination's influence must be giving Fritz a lot of confidence, enough to do the things he had once only dreamed of, but with Ms Calender it had clearly gone further.

'I know where Buffy is,' Xander said firmly. 'She's coming to rescue to us. What's happened to you two?'

'Moloch gave her to me,' Fritz said, smiling. 'Her wiped her mind and made her my sex slave.'

'You think Moloch did that?' Xander asked. 'Moloch's not the big bad.'

If Fritz didn't know the full story then perhaps he could still be reached. Once he discovered just how bad his position really was, he might rebel.

'Don't bother,' Giles said. 'His herald won't let him know; it'll just tease you with false hope.'

'You think Buffy will rescue you,' Fritz said, as if Giles hadn't spoken. 'We stripped her naked, tied her up, and dumped her in the sewers. You'll never see her again.'

'A fitting end for the slayer, Master,' Ms Calendar said, gazing adoringly at Fritz. 'So much better than simply killing her.'

'She'll escape,' Xander said confidently. If Buffy was alive, being tied up wouldn't stop her.

'The same old trick,' Giles spat, 'but the joke's on you. Xander, everything these creatures do is calculated to allow you false hope, so they can reveal it to be false, and thus drive you into despair.'

'If you really believe that, kick the box away,' Ms Calender said. 'Death would come quickly.'

'Another lie,' Giles said. 'The hopes you allow are false, but there is hope nonetheless. Buffy will escape from your escape proof trap, and upset all your calculations.'

Fritz laughed. 'I am a genius. I cannot err.'

'Hubris. How the herald must be laughing, in the recesses of your mind," Giles said, smiling faintly as both Fritz's and Ms Calender's faces went blank, "but the jokes on it. Xander, these heralds are playing twisted games with their puppets, for nothing more than idle amusement, but that too is hubris. They are stronger than they act, but weaker than they believe, and that arrogance shall be their downfall."

'Hubris?' Ms Calender said, awareness returning to her eyes. 'Have you forgotten already, Rupert? Buffy could not defeat our pet; she cannot defeat us. If she should escape, she will come to your rescue, and learn despair at our hands.'

'Your pet?' Xander asked, trying to keep her talking.

'Her uncle was a superstitious fool,' Fritz said. 'He believed in magic and demons, so he killed himself when he learned of Moloch, such a waste, but we have made good use of his body.'

'You turned her uncle into that thing?' Xander said. He had seen worse looking things than that in his nightmares, after the deathgate opened, doing things he refused to remember, but those had been dreams. This was real.

'It has been a most … pleasurable experiment,' Fritz said, his voice passionless.

Xander stared. Pleasurable? The thing in Dave's room, when they had succubi?

The Xander's eyes opened wide in sudden realisation. The heralds weren't really into sex, they got their kicks from degradation. Like Giles had said, they loved to play sick games with their victims, for the pure fun of it. Sex was just the bait in the trap.

Ms Calendar smiled. 'When Moloch the great is free, all flesh shall be reshaped in like manner.'

'Only if I approve,' Fritz said sharply.

'You think you could stop Moloch?' Giles said scornfully. 'Would you care to explain how? I might die laughing.'

Xander struggled not to smile as Fritz looked proudly at Giles, oblivious to how he was being played.

'The entity you call Moloch believes its own propaganda. I know the true nature of things.'

'A big claim,' Giles said encouragingly.

'It's really quite simple. My first clue was that so-called magic requires the effective laws of physics to be AI-complete, but you're too Luddite to know what that means, aren't you?'

'Any fool can spout jargon,' Giles said. 'It takes a genius to put the ideas into plain English.'

'Magic responds to meaning, and intent, but recognising meaning requires a human-equivalent intellect, and intent is harder still.'

'Of course,' Giles said dismissively. 'All serious students of magic know that.'

'But do they understand the implications?' Fritz challenged. 'No, or they'd have done what I'm going to do with Xander.'

'Shoot a porn video?' Xander suggested, trying to sound hopeful.

'Let him see the circles,' Fritz said to Ms Calender, then looked back at Giles. 'Magic is too complicated not to be running on some underlying hardware, meaning this entire universe is but a virtual reality.'

'An old philosophy in new guise,' Giles said, as Ms Calendar stepped behind Xander, 'and not entirely without merit. Dave explained Moloch's version, but-'

'But nothing,' Fritz said. 'It was trivial for me to reverse engineer the magic spells, determine the coding language, and find a route to transcendence. Sit up, Xander.'

Xander hesitated, then tried to sit up. He couldn't move his legs, and his hands were still fastened together, but they weren't fastened to the table any longer. It felt more like elastic, awkward to pull against, but he could manage it.

Finally upright, he looked round, and groaned. He was tied to a flimsy-looking table, surrounded by an elaborate set of magic circles, seven of them, each a different colour, with other symbols in between the circles.

'Are they real?' he quickly asked Giles. Anyone could draw paint fancy patterns on the floor, but for most people, that was all they'd ever be.

'They are,' Giles said, 'but they won't do what Fritz wants.'

'You could not begin to comprehend-'

'I have four books that describe exactly what those circles do,' Giles said firmly. 'You are not the first to be tricked this way, which shows how little your herald thinks of you.'

'Prove it,' Fritz spat.

'The basic idea is to use the energies released by torture to transform yourself, but Xander would die before you succeeded, so some of those energies are diverted to heal him. That bit does work, Xander; you shouldn't suffer any permanent physical damage-'

'But it won't stop the pain,' Fritz said, smiling, 'and you won't be able to faint either.'

Giles nodded. 'Fritz thinks he can use the remaining energies to ascend to a form of godhood. What the spell actually does is turn him into powerful but near-mindless demon - Brace yourself!'

Xander looked round wildly, then yelped as the elastic yanked his hands backwards, wrenching at his shoulders, pulling him down, until he was again flat on his back.

Smiling, Ms Calender sauntered back to Fritz's side.

'Just remember, hope can never die,' Giles said. 'Um, good news: we can be fairly sure that neither of these heralds have reached the second stage, since they're still playing with their food, though Jenny is a puzzle. Buffy should have no trouble killing them.'

'I can see how that could happen if errors were made,' Fritz said, again ignoring Giles's last comment, 'but I do not err. Slave, time to change.'

Ms Calender rippled, her clothes dissolving and reforming as her flesh flowed over her bones, settling into a new shape.

'What do you think?' she asked coyly.

Xander swallowed nervously. She was wearing Willow's face now, but that was not Willow's body. If his friend had really been that curvy, every boy in school would have noticed, even without the skin-tight black leather outfit.

'The personal touch is always best,' Fritz said as he took off his shirt, revealing occult symbols drawn on his stomach and chest, symbols matching those drawn round the circles. 'Begin.'

Ms Calender ripped open Xander's shirt, licked her lips, then picked up a kitchen knife and leaned over him.

Xander thrashed, but she planted one hand on his chest, skin against skin, and slow paralysis crept over him.

Giggling merrily, she began to cut, blood welling up round the knife.


	25. Three Temptations: Love

The agony stopped, leaving mere pain.

Wincing at every movement, Xander looked round, trying to see what Ms Calender was up to.

"You still hope?" she said. "How charmingly naïve. You will die today, the first of many sacrifices to my Lord Moloch, and you will go gladly to your death. I guarantee it."

Giles laughed. "Empty words. He has seen a whisperer in darkness; your petty tortures cannot break him."

"Is that true?" Ms Calender snapped, staring intently at Xander.

He nodded slowly, half his mind on his much abused body. His injuries were healing fast, thanks to the magic, but the pain lingered, a fire in his flesh.

He'd experienced worse though, in his nightmares after the morgue. Xander could still vividly remember what it felt like to be slowly lowered into a furnace by his mother, the flames licking up his legs as he screamed for mercy.

With practised ease, Xander buried the memory deep, then smiled inwardly. He'd beaten the whisperer-spawned nightmares; a possessed teacher should not be a problem, even if she did look like Willow.

"He's seen also seen Loki, Fein Dahlk, and Death itself," Giles added. "He is a child of the hell mouth, stronger than you can imagine."

She shuddered. "Loki is nothing, but the others … I'll just have to destroy his soul."

"Why?" Fritz asked. "Who's Fein Dahlk?"

"A high priest of the Ebon Maw," Ms Calender said, slowly walking towards him, "but you don't understand what that means, do you?"

"Explain yourself," Fritz ordered, his voice tinged with worry.

Laughing, Ms Calender caressed his chest, then whispered a single word.

"I said—"

"You cannot command me," she said. "You never could. I am the chosen consort of the great Moloch. You are merely the tool by which I was created, a pawn in the great plan, no longer useful save as raw material."

"Want to buy a bridge?" Xander said weakly. It didn't matter who she thought her master was, she should still have realised that it could be using her just like it had used Fritz.

"Jenny, do you really think—" Fritz began, then paused, fear dawning on his face. "You've paralysed me."

"The first betrayal," Giles said softly, looking intently at Xander, "but not the last. The herald won't let Jenny realise that though, not until it's too late. Such is the true nature of evil."

Ignoring him, Ms Calender touched Fritz on the forehead.

"Remember the boy you were," she said, and his faced filled with horror.

After a few moments, he scowled at her. "You hacked my brain," he spat, "you—"

"Don't you want to know what happens next," Ms Calender said teasingly.

"Yes," Fritz said. "It can't be any worse than the things you made me doing, sleeping with that—"

"Foolish child," Ms Calender said. "Educating you will be a pleasure."

Xander repressed a smile. Gloating would give him time to think about escape.

"It is possible to bootstrap one's way to godhood, the way you sought to do," Ms Calender said, "but the path is long, nor are there any short cuts to apotheosis. The purpose of this ritual is quite different …"

He didn't want to leave Giles behind — it had been bad enough hearing Owen's screams as he ran — but getting him out of the manacles would be difficult, not something he could do while Ms Calender was trying to stop him. He'd have to knock her out first, if he could, even though she had Willow's face. At least Fritz was paralysed.

"When I carve the missing rune on your chest, the algetic energies will begin to flow," Ms Calender said, "and the transformation will begin …"

Half listening, Xander smiled. It sounded like she was settling in for a long explanation, giving him plenty of time to plan his escape. He just needed to think of a way to free his limbs, and he'd have a decent chance. It wouldn't be easy, but—

It should have been much harder. Giles had said the herald could frighten even the gods, but that didn't make sense when it was leaving openings even he could spot, unless ….

Of course. It was another of the herald's traps, offering him false hope of escape by playing on his expectations, but the herald had underestimated him, or did it just want him to think that?

Xander scowled. Between Cordelia and Willow, he'd had enough of the they-think-you-think-they-think maze; better to cut through the deception, and act.

The herald wanted to give him a chance to escape, a chance it would make as painful and degrading as it thought he could tolerate, but if he took it, he'd discover at the last moment it had all been a trick. Well, he'd take that chance and stuff it down the herald's throat by doing something it would never expect.

He wouldn't try to escape, and he wouldn't commit suicide, too obvious, and too final; he'd disrupt the spell. Drawing that five-pointed star thing Giles kept using should do it, especially if he used his own freely given blood to scribble over the herald's evil runes.

"— but enough talk," Ms Calendar said, smiling. "Savouring your despair has been fun, but I can't keep the spell paused forever. Any last words?"

"Name your price. Whatever you want, I'll do it. I don't care, but let me stay human, please."

"Really?" she said. "You'd kill your mother for me? And desecrate her corpse?"

Fritz nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes. I never really liked her anyway."

"A tempting offer. Prove you mean it. Gouge out your own eyes."

"Fritz," Giles said sharply. "That was not a promise. She won't stop there."

Fritz scowled. "Do I look like an idiot? Of course it won't end with my eyes. She'll keep on asking me to prove myself, in a thousand sick ways, but it's better than the alternative. At least I'll still be me."

Xander sighed. Fritz really didn't get it. There was no way Ms Calender would leave him himself, however much he squirmed.

"Go on then," Ms Calendar said, toying with a screwdriver. "Don't keep me waiting."

Fritz stuck his right thumb in the corner of his eye, then hesitated, his hand quivering.

"Not got the guts, have you?" Ms Calendar spat contemptuously, then laughed. "Not that it matters. Did you really think—"

Mid-sentence, she jabbed Fritz's chest with the screwdriver, drawing blood.

"—I'd let you settle for the lesser evil?"

"But — but—" Fritz stammered, his face contorted in pain.

"And you already have killed your parents," she said. "Their corpses are upstairs, arranged in a charming tableaux. Remember?"

Fritz paled, then shook his head. "See, I can be useful as I am. Please, let me stay human. Don't change me. Use me."

"Don't beg," Xander said softly, not caring if Ms Calender punished him. "You're just turning her on."

Giles nodded."Show her your mettle."

Fritz ignored them both, begging for his life between gasps of pain.

Unmoved, Ms Calender finished carving the last rune into his chest.

Fritz threw back his head and screamed, his jaw dropping open as his eyes closed.

Blood red lights flickered across his torso, leaving bone white scales in their wake, and Fritz screamed, a single wordless cry of agony.

Fritz's arms grew gaunt, the skin darkening while his hands twisted, fingers and thumbs shrinking into uselessness even as his nails warped into hooves, and still Fritz screamed, his pain-racked shrieks echoing round the room.

Xander winced, but did not look away. He needed to know what had happened to Fritz, so he could make the abomination pay. No one deserved to suffer like that, and even if they had, the abomination had no right to kill them.

Half-raising his head, Xander looked lower down, ignoring Ms Calender's pleased smile.

Fritz's jeans concealed his legs, but below them were two more hooves, awkwardly balanced amid the ruin of his shoes.

Xander looked back at his face, the only part as yet unchanged, then frowned. Fritz was still screaming, an endless wail, but the sound was fading away.

"A pity he has to be muted," Ms Calender said, "but it would not be practical."

Fritz wobbled, then fell forwards, landing on all fours, his arms lengthening as a spiked tail burst out of his jeans.

"Recognise the transformation yet," Ms Calender ask Giles casually.

"I will not play that game," he replied.

As Fritz shifted on his new feet, finding his balance, his belt snapped, his jeans falling away to reveal legs no longer human. Like his arms, they were a glossy black now, with sparse bristles and barbed spurs at the knees, a look that seemed oddly familiar,

"It's a beginning," Ms Calender said, then smiled at Xander, "but only that. Now I've jump started the transformation, it'll require a steady stream of pain to drive it to completion in a reasonable time. Ready?"

"No," Xander said, knowing it would make no difference.

"Good," she said, then picked up a chisel. "Where shall I begin? So many delightful choices."

Slowly, she sauntered toward Xander, one hand dipping between her legs, and as she advanced she began to sing. "Georgie, porgie, pudding and pie. Kiss the girls, to make them cry."

* * *

"Come ye children, come and die," Ms Calender sung, vigorously rubbing wire wool over Xander's chest. "Your blood I shall drink like water, on this day of joyous slaughter. Come ye children, come and die."

Upstairs, something hit the floor, hard.

"A rescue party?" Ms Calender said, sighing, then traced a rune in the air. "I suppose I can put this spell on hold again, for a few minutes."

"And if it takes longer?" Xander asked, trying to concentrate through the waves of pain.

The ceiling shook, cracks racing across the plaster.

"You die, painfully."

Xander smiled. "What a surprise."

If Ms Calender was telling the truth, he'd be able to disrupt the spell by simply delaying her, but she'd already demonstrated she'd say anything to give her victims false hope, just as Giles had warned. She must be lying.

At least the pain was fading as her magic slowly healed his injuries, ready for the next round.

The basement door slammed open, bouncing off the wall.

Ms Calender laughed, then adjusted Xander's restraints. "Take a good look at your rescuers."

Wincing, he sat up, then groaned. "Vampires."

There were four of them in the doorway, pressed up against an invisible barrier.

"Xander," Buffy shouted, somewhere behind them.

"Buffy," Giles shouted back. "Run."

"She can't," a glasses-wearing vampire said. "She's our prisoner. You lot, move aside."

"An offering, for me?" Ms Calender said. "How thoughtful of you."

"No," the vampire said, stepping forwards, a stout steel chain held firmly in one hand. "Mr Giles, will you give us your sworn word that—"

"Suffer," Ms Calender said, and the vampires' skin crumbled to dust.

Xander winced and looked away, wishing he could blot out their screams. They were soulless monsters, killers a hundred time over, who belonged dead, but torturing them for fun, that was just sick.

"I'm sitting on the largest accumulation of algetic energies in over twenty years," she said, looking disappointed, "and you think you can cross me. Fools—"

"Willow?" Buffy shouted. "What?"

Xander looked past the pain-racked vampires, their naked muscles wet with blood, and frowned. Buffy was coming down the stairs.

From ankle to neck, she was wrapped in thick steel chains, with heavy weights tied to her, but she was the slayer, inhumanly strong. Anyone else wouldn't even have been able to stay standing yet Buffy struggled forward, clumsily inching her way down the stairs.

Against Ms Calender, she wouldn't stand a chance.

"The other way," Xander shouted. "This isn't Willow. Go get help."

"From where?" Ms Calender asked. "Here and now, there is nothing that can stand against me. Soon, I shall sit at the left hand of my Lord Moloch, and all shall bow before us."

"Never," said another voice. "I am the master here."

Xander blinked. The glasses-wearing vampire was standing straight, looking calmly at Ms Calender, and its voice had changed.

"The local vampire lord, I presume," Ms Calender said. "Enjoying the aura of the death gate?"

"Spare me your insipid banter, woman," the Master said. "I do not treat with puppets."

Ms Calender looked thoughtfully at him. "You want to speak to Mr Giles? Why?"

"I was at Magdeburg, when the herald came," the Master said, his voice tinged with horror.

"Magdeburg?" she said. "In Germany? There was the siege there, but my Lord—"

"Silence," the Master snapped. "If Moloch truly be your master, I will treat with him directly. With a slayer on the table—"

"Hey," Buffy shouted. "You said—"

The Master casually slapped her, a flat-handed blow that left her spitting blood.

"You live by my sufferance," he said, then looked back at Ms Calender. "If her tale be true, I will see you and your master ended. This world is the rightful dominion of the Old Ones, and I am their champion."

Giles laughed. "They tell you that, did they?"

"I have read the ancient prophecies," the Master said flatly. "There can be no mistake. It is my proud destiny to open the mouth of hell, and so end the age of man. The Old Ones shall reign supreme, and I shall sit amongst them, for they shall make me as one with them."

Xander smiled. If the Master believed that, he was as deluded as Ms Calender, which must be why Giles had deliberately prompted that rant. He was making sure Xander knew the score.

"Moloch too is a servant of the Old Ones," Ms Calender said.

"Mr Giles," the Master said, ignoring her, "will you give me your sworn word—"

"Suffer," Ms Calender shouted, her left hand tracing a rune.

The Master staggered, one hand clutching at the staircase wall, then glared at her.

"You dare attack me?" he snarled. "I care not who you serve; for this insult, you shall die,"

"Empty words," Ms Calender said. "You were anticipated. This house was protected against your coming."

"By succubi?" the Master sneered. "Those pathetic creatures—"

"Were there solely to guard against escape," she said. "Look at the walls."

Xander half-nodded, his suspicions confirmed. If he'd escaped, the succubi would have grabbed him inches from safety.

As the Master looked, strange runes appeared atop the white plaster, glowing a sickly green.

"Hidden by a glamour," he said thoughtfully, then smiled. "You forgot, I am not truly here. I can withdraw, and—"

The Master paused, growling in frustration. "What have you done."

Ms Calender smiled. "You are pinned in that body now, for so long as I live. You cannot hope to harm me. Come into my lair, and bring the slayer with you. This will be a lesson she will not soon forget."

"Very well," the Master said, grabbing Buffy's chains. "Your invitation is accepted."

Ms Calender watched him warily, then smiled. "Clever, but it won't work. All lesser powers are suppressed in this place."

The basement door slammed closed, shutting the other vampires out.

Growling, the Master leapt at her, knocking her to the floor, then ripped open her stomach with his bare hands.

"I win," he gloated. "I am the Master . I cannot be defeated."

Xander half-smiled. With that attitude, there was no way the Master could win. Any other time, that would have been great news.

Ms Calender whispered a single word.

The Master's arms exploded, showering the room in dust.

Shock plain on his face, he backed hastily away.

His legs vanished.

Ignoring his panicked scream, Ms Calender stood back up, her stomach fast healing, then looked at Buffy. "Come here, girl."

"No," Buffy said firmly.

Ms Calender laughed. "You have seen what powered My Lord Moloch has granted me. Do you really believe you have any choice?"

"She can force you to obey," Giles said. "She can't make you choose to obey."

After a moment, Xander smiled. Giles was right. If Buffy gave in once, it would be harder for her to resist the next time.

"Actually," Ms Calender said, "Moloch has taught me spells that would leave her begging to be my slave, but that would be no fun. No, I will give her long hours to dwell on the fate that awaits her, time enough for creeping terror to drown her spirit. In the end, she will beg me to make it quick, and I shall deny her. Come girl, and learn the meaning of despair."

"No," Buffy said again.

Ms Calender smiled. "Do you want to join those vampires in pain?"

Buffy looked down at them, still whimpering, then back at Ms Calender. "You're bluffing."

"You're smarter than you look, girl."

"Cheap shots," Buffy said. "That all you've got?"

"Let me think," Mrs Calender said. "No."

With a flick of her finger, she yanked Buffy's feet from underneath her, then slowly pulled her down the stairs, Buffy's head banging on every step.

"Telekinesis," Giles said quietly. "Not a difficult spell, provided you stick to one target. Controlling several at once is much harder."

Xander glared at him. It was difficult for Giles to speak, chained up like he was, so he must have some ulterior motive, but if expected Xander to find some double meaning in his words, he really needed to aim lower.

Mrs Calender kicked the Master aside, then slid Buffy across the floor, parking her underneath Fritz. "See what I have planned for you?"

"The demon's going to sit on me?" Buffy guessed. "And who are you anyway?"

Mrs Calender laughed. "Don't you recognise your friends?"

"You look like Willow," Buffy said, "and you sound like her, but—"

"It was Mrs Calender," Giles explained. "Now it is a puppet of an herald of abomination."

"I am not my Lord Moloch's puppet. I am his handmaiden."

"OK," Buffy said slowly. "How that working out for you?"

"Why don't you ask Fritz?"

"He here too?" Buffy said, looking round. "Where?"

"Above you," Giles said.

"What?" Buffy gasped. "That's Fritz?"

"It is," Xander confirmed. "Um, was."

There wasn't much left of Fritz now. The spell had slowly warped him, until now he looked part alligator, part spider, twelve feet of scaled muscle, supported by a dozen chitinous legs. Only his head remained human, still locked in a silent scream.

Xander shifted uneasily. There was something vaguely familiar about Fritz's new shape, something tickling buried memories. If he could just place it—

—it wouldn't help. Mrs Calender was the real danger, or rather the herald riding her was; Fritz was just a pawn in its scheme.

"He though he could become a god," Mrs Calender said, "but he is more useful this way."

"For what?" Buffy asked disbelievingly.

"For having children, of course," Mrs Calender said, stroking Fritz's flank. "They will be adorable, as will you be, when I have my way with you."

"Don't worry," Giles said. "Xander has a plan."

Surprised, Xander blinked. He did have a vague plan, the best he could manage while struggling to think past the pain of torture, but he hadn't told Giles about it, and why was Giles telling Mrs Calender anyway?

"Really?" she said, picking up a blowtorch. "We can correct that. Xander, which bits should I burn off? Feet or—"

"Feet," Xander shouted as she pointed the blowtorch at his groin. "Definitely feet."

"You sure?" she asked, groping him."You've not used this much. Well, not in company, anyway."

Much? He hadn't done it at all, though there had been that night with the witch. Had she-

Xander shook his head, trying to focus. "I need it."

"For what," Mrs Calender asked, sounding innocently curious. "Explain, in detail, and I might be lenient."

Xander stared at her disbelievingly. Did she really think he'd talk about that, with Buffy listening?

"Come on," Mrs Calender said. "Tell us exactly what you've been dreaming of doing to Buffy."

"As if any man can control his dreams," Giles said scornfully. "Talking will amuse the herald, but that is all it will do."

Xander hesitated, thinking quickly, then looked down at the table he was tied to. He couldn't see much of it, but what he could see looked pretty battered: cracks by his head, where she'd slammed the hammer down to intimidate him, gouges where the knives had slipped in her blood-slick hands, even a few char marks.

He couldn't see how she'd tied his arms up, but from the feel of it, she'd probably used metal wires like the ones he could see wrapped round his ankles, fastening them securely to each other, and the table.

Good, his plan should work. It would hurt, a lot, but Mrs Calender did want him to try escaping and, as Giles had just said, talking wouldn't get them anywhere.

Xander stared straight at Mrs Calender. "No."

She shrugged. "If that is where your priorities lie, let your feet burn."

"Go ahead," Xander said, bracing himself against the pain.

Whistling tunelessly, she squeezed the trigger.

Xander grimaced as the white hot flame played over his bare feet, his hands clenched tight as he struggled not to scream.

* * *

A few minutes later, Mrs Calender smiled admiringly at the blackened ruin of Xander's feet, then reached down and snapped off a toe.

Xander glared at her, waiting for his chance. Just a few moments more, and he could strike.

Smirking, she slowly dragged the toe across his bare skin, from the hollow of his neck, over his chest, past his navel, and then her hand disappeared inside the tattered remnants of his boxers.

Another time, he would have been flattered, but not with the sweet stench of his own roasted flesh filling the room. Xander sank deeper into the meditative trance Giles had taught him, his eyes focused on his feet.

They were healing now, thanks to Mrs Calender's dark magic, the black char flaking away to reveal pink skin, ready for the next round of torture.

"Perhaps I need to aim a little higher," she said, switching the blowtorch back on. "Your ankles should have recovered by now."

Xander twitched involuntarily, remembering the hammer blows.

Giggling, she played the torch across his ankles, first one, then the other.

Xander kicked upwards, easily snapping the heat-softened metal wires, then slammed his feet back down, bending at the knees.

The table cracked.

Giles nodded approvingly as Mrs Calender stepped backwards, but Xander lifted his feet for another go. He couldn't get far with an entire table strapped to his back, but he wouldn't have to, not with the table so badly weakened from his torture.

"You think you can escape me?" Mrs Calender asked calmly, her eyebrows raised.

Xander struck down, his feet smashing through the battered plywood.

"No," he said firmly, as the table collapsed underneath him.

"What?" Mrs Calender gasped, echoed by Buffy.

Xander slowly sat up, then shuffled away from the wreckage, across the magic circles. "I will not abandon Buffy, or Giles."

"Not even for a moment?" Mrs Calender asked. "There is a phone upstairs."

"But you've cut the line," Xander guessed. The whole house would be full of magical booby-traps too, so she could have fun tormenting him with false hopes, but he couldn't let her knew he knew that.

"Come!" the Master shouted. "By right of blood I command you, come!"

As Mrs Calender turned to face him, Xander brought his hands down in front of him, and with them, the upper half of the table, fastened only to his wrists.

"You too," she said. "How tiresome."

His shoulder straining, Xander passed the remnant of the table under his feet, then jerked upwards, once, twice—

The basement door burst open, skinless vampires spilling in.

"Kill the herald," they chanted in eerie unison. "Kill her. Kill her."

With a loud crack, the table split.

Xander smiled. His hands were still fastened together with wire, and they still had big chunks of wood strapped to them, but he had enough mobility now for the next stage: drawing a pentagram in his own blood, and hoping.

Using magic he didn't understand would be dangerous — that book Cordelia had found had made it very clear that people who experimented like that usually died screaming, those who still had mouths — but if he did nothing he'd be tortured to death anyway, and he couldn't hit Ms Calender when she was wearing Willow's face.

Anyway, Giles kept using pentagrams, so they couldn't be too dangerous, and if it did turn everyone in the basement into giant zombie frogs, that would still be better than the alternative.

"I have already routed you once," Mrs Calender said, glancing scornfully at the vampires slowly closing in. "This time, your suffering shall be worse."

"We are the hand of the Master," the vampires chanted, pulling her down. "We know not fear."

Xander frowned. That wasn't how vampires normally acted. It must be part of the increased power the Master was getting from the death gate, which would make him harder to kill, despite his arrogance.

"Puppets?" Giles said tentatively, then shook his head. After a moment, he winced, blood leaking from his mouth.

"Liberat nos!" he shouted, and the wires binding Xander's wrists unfastened themselves.

"Couldn't you have done that earlier?" Buffy muttered, as the chains around her fell away. "Um, why are you bleeding?"

Xander reached for one of the table fragments, then hesitated. With Buffy free, he wouldn't need to try messing with magic.

"I needed blood to power the spell,,"Giles said, his manacles snapping open, then looked at Xander. "And I couldn't have done anything without you. The herald was suppressing all other magic, but your escape disrupted that, and-—"

Ms Calender tossed the vampires aside, black lightening crackling over her hands.

"—and the Master seized that opportunity to distract her," Giles explained, as Buffy helped him down from the wall.

Xander smiled. That meant he was the one who'd freed everyone. Buffy should be really impressed by that. He should do more though, if he could think of something that wouldn't get him killed fast.

"I will do more than distract her," the Master snarled. "For the indignities I have suffered, I shall have vengeance ten-fold."

"How?" Mrs Calender asked calmly. "Your minions are pathetic."

"They are become extensions of my will," the Master said as his vampires stood back up. "They shall not falter while I remain, nor shall they fall. They shall take you prisoner, against the day the Old Ones return, and on that day—"

Ms Calender stepped sideways, jabbing her elbow backwards, but Buffy dodged,smoothly tripping her.

"A slayer and a vampire, cooperating?" Ms Calender said, gripping Buffy's left ankle in her lightning-wreathed hands.

Buffy's jaw dropped open, an idiotic smile growing on her face, but then the vampires ripped Ms Calender away, tossing her into Fritz.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, her voice still trembling in shock as she gingerly patted her seared ankle.

"Moloch's gift, fool," Ms Calender said, wiping the blood from her mouth, then traced a single rune on the floor.

Fritz collapsed, his tail thrashing wildly.

"Now what?" Buffy asked, jumping out of the way.

Giles glanced at the rune. "She's speeded up his transformation. Kill him fast. I'll take care of her."

"You?" Ms Calender said scornfully. "The watcher who hides behind his books?"

"With what?" Buffy muttered, looking uncertainly at the bloodstained tools, then abruptly smiled and picked up a length of broken chain.

"I have looked great Azrael in the eye, and walked away," Giles said simply. "Can you say as much?"

Buffy ran towards Fritz, the chain whirling in her hands.

The Master laughed. "I," he said proudly, "walked away from the Scholomance of Chernobog. Go, help your slayer. This child of abomination shall learn to fear my name. In pain and terror she shall curse it, all the days of her life."

As the Master spoke, his vampires gathered round him.

"You want to be cursed," Mrs Calender asked. "As my forbears cursed your favourite, so I shall curse you, but not with any mere human soul. To you I shall bind a servant of Lord Moloch, and make you an helpless witness to its dark pleasures."

Ignoring her, Giles and the Master both began to chant, Latin mingling with another language, more guttural.

"Pathetic," Ms Calender muttered, then cupped her hands in front of her and sang, unrecognisable words set to a vaguely familiar tune.

Xander frowned thoughtfully. Ms Calender hadn't named Angel. Why not? She wasn't trying to protect his secret, so she must have some ulterior motive, which meant she was still confident enough to play games.

Buffy lashed out with the chain, ripping open a gash in Fritz's left flank, dripping blue blood, but before the first drops hit the ground the gash had healed.

He turned to face her, revealing a fast-swelling bulge on the far side of his neck.

In Ms Calender's cupped hands, the shadows deepened.

Buffy lashed out again, smashing Fritz's front left kneecap, then dodged as he reared up, his feet kicking wildly, but his kneecap had already healed.

She stepped back, looking thoughtfully at Fritz, a second head forming from the bulge on his neck. "Giles!"

He spoke three more words, then sighed and pulled a pen out of his pocket. "Remember the plan," he said, tossing it to her, "and don't forget rule five. Start with the head, and don't forget the clock."

Buffy scowled as she caught the pen and started to reply, but then Fritz kicked out at her, and she turned back to the fight.

"Kill him fast," Xander added, smiling. "Willow's waiting for us."

Buffy stabbed Fritz in his throat with the pen, driving it deep into his neck, then somersaulted onto his head.

Xander scooped up a table fragment and raked his fingers across the jagged ends, drawing blood.

Ms Calender turned to face him, her eyes widening in surprise,

Xander began to draw, keeping the lines as straight as he could manage, always moving clockwise, the way Giles kept doing.

After a few seconds, he scowled as realisation dawned. Giles hadn't really been talking to Buffy; he'd been telling Xander to draw a five pointed star, clockwise, obvious enough in retrospect but uselessly cryptic as advice.

Ms Calender started to sing faster, her feet tracing a circle on the ground.

Second line drawn, and Giles pointed at her. "Segenarith."

The half-formed spell in her hands rippled, shadowy tentacles reaching out, then imploded.

As she staggered back, the vampires threw themselves on top of the Master.

Xander finished the fourth line, then started on the fifth.

"Get down, now!" Giles shouted, diving under a workbench.

Buffy jumped off Fritz, landing next to Giles.

Xander completed the pentagram.

From the blood-drawn lines, five curtains of shimmering red light sprang up, surrounding him.

Outside the pentagram, Ms Calender's magic circles rippled, paint impossibly moving across the concrete.

"Fool!" Ms Calender shouted as the circles twisted into new patterns. "You've destabilized- "

"Oh, do shut up," Giles said wearily. "Well done, Xander."

He smiled back, warily eyeing the floor. Sickly lights were dancing along the writhing paths that had once been paint, and the air above was rippling.

"If we survive," the Master said approvingly, "I will order you killed, but only after the abomination as been defeated, of course."

Half seen shapes shimmered round Ms Calender,

"We will all die!" she screamed.

Giles shrugged. "A better death than you would have granted us, but we will not die."

Fireballs erupted from the floor, bouncing off the walls.

Xander tensed, looking for a safer spot, but Giles looked at him.

"No," he shouted, as shadowy tentacles lashed the air. "You're safe there."

Ms Calender stood in the centre of the room, lightning crackling around her, and she smiled.

A fireball struck her left shoulder, and her smile broadened. Lips quivering in unholy delight, she brushed the charred flesh off her blackened bones, then began to fondle herself.

Gagging, Xander quickly looked away.

"The abomination's work," Giles said sadly, covering Buffy's eyes.

Fritz roared.

Startled, Xander looked at the demon slowly lurching across the room, fireballs splashing harmlessly against its scales. That sound hadn't come from its human head, the last remnant of Fritz; it had come from its new head, the head of a giant fly, and he had a third head too now, a leering girl.

The demon loomed over Ms Calender, its mandibles brushing her hair.

She looked up, horror dawning on her face.

The demon ripped her head off.

Still standing, the corpse lit up, its skin shimmering in nameless colours.

"Eyes!" Giles warned, but Xander had already turned his back on the grisly scene, his head buried in his hands.

Behind him, something exploded, a silent blast that sent him skidding across the floor.

Xander rubbed his eyes, clearing away the spots, then turned to examine the damage, and groaned.

Ms Calender and Fritz had both vanished, but so had all trace of her magic circles, and the pentagram he had drawn. There were new runes painted on the floor now, in the colours of rot and decay, some of them glowing with sickly light.

"Aklo," the Master said. "Can you read it, watcher?"

"A little," Giles said, frowning thoughtfully. "Two layers of spells? One of them hidden from us, and presumably Ms Calender? Just preventing destructive interference would be—"

"Giles, why are you talking to him?" Buffy asked, scowling at the Master.

"We can't kill him at the moment," Giles said patiently. "He's not really here, but apparently he was at Magdeburg."

"I was," the Master confirmed, his surviving minions hoisting him onto their shoulder. "I know what we face."

"There is no we," Xander said flatly. "You're no better than the abomination."

"Insolent child," the Master spat. "There are lines I will not cross."

"Perhaps," Giles said. "Tell them what happened to you in Magdeburg."

"You know?" the Master said, sounding surprised.

"You were there, and you were not tainted. There is only one possible explanation."

"I was trapped in that city for three weeks, before the watchers came," the Master said slowly. "Three weeks at the mercy of the herald. It was … terrible."

"So it's personal?" Xander said. "That doesn't change anything."

"It means we can trust him to honour a truce. There are precedents."

"That's—" Xander began.

"Churchill once said that if Hitler invaded hell, he would speak favourably of the devil."

"But—" Buffy objected.

"The Master is evil," Giles said firmly. "He must die, but the Herald is a greater evil. Fighting the Master while the Herald is loose would be like … putting a sticking plaster on a paper cut when you've been disembowelled. As long as he doesn't attack us, we should concentrate on the Herald."

"I will not take advantage of your distraction," the Master said. "On that you have my word, as a member of the Order of Aurelius. Humans are mere vermin, infesting the rightful home of the Old Ones, but the abomination beyond the wall is their rival. Defeating its plots must take precedence."

Then the Master smiled. "If you ask nicely, I might even share my hard-won knowledge with you."

"The council interrogated all the survivors of Magdeburg—"

"—then faked a cover story," the Master said. "Such a shame it took you so long—"

"It was the middle of the Thirty Year's War," Giles said hotly.

Xander smiled. At least Giles and the Master weren't going to get all friendly. If all they did was ignore each other while dealing with bigger problems, well, they'd never gone hunting the Master anyway. They had their hands full with witches and death gates.

Xander still didn't like the idea — the Master belonged dead — but it did make a kind of sense.

"Excuses," the Master said. "You may know what happened there; but I know more. I spent a decade studying the horror I escaped. Why do you think I learned Aklo?"

"The libraries of the council—" Giles began, then hesitated. "The Scholomance, was that before or after?"

"I burnt my invitation, and walked away," the Master said. "Only a fool would have accepted."

"Then you have nothing to offer," Giles said, looking relieved.

"How good is your Aklo?"

"Good enough that I need not compromise myself."

"Shall we test that?" the Master asked. "What happened to the Lillisian succubus hive queen?"

His memory jolted, Xander twitched. He had seen the transformed Fritz before, looking very out of place in a book on succubi. It had taken him half an hour struggling with the Latin dictionary to get an explanation.

"Fritz?" Giles said, pointing at the floor where he had disappeared. "Teleported to the nearest suitable spot outside the hellmouth's aura."

"That was a succubus?" Buffy said disbelievingly.

"I'll explain later," Giles said, then looked at the Master. "I don't suppose you'd trust me to give you a full translation?"

"No more than you would me," the Master said. "We both need to study them, but I will graciously let you go first."

"That borrowed body getting uncomfortable, is it?" Giles said cynically.

The Master scowled, then disappeared in a puff of dust, his abandoned minions collapsing.

"It was only his spirit holding that body together," Giles explained, then looked at Buffy. "Go and get Xander some spare clothes. I'll translate what I can of this spell."

As Buffy looked at him, Xander reflexively tried to cover himself, realising just how naked he was.

Blushing, she ran out of the room.

"Xander," Giles said gently, "do you understand why I told the herald you had an escape plan?"

Xander thought a moment. He'd been surprised when Giles had done that, but the moment he had, Ms Calender had given him a chance to escape.

"She wanted me to try escaping, so she could crush my hopes," Xander said, beginning with what he was certain of. "That's why she gave me time to think of a plan, but, um, I couldn't let her know I had one, or she'd get suspicious … which is why you told her instead?"

"Perceptive."

"I've spent too much time round Cordy," Xander said, smiling ruefully.

"What tangled webs we weave," Giles quoted. "Um, if you need to talk to anyone about … this, I do have some training."

Xander shrugged. "I've had worse days," and it wasn't the kind of thing he'd feel comfortable talking to Giles about.

"The advantages of growing up on an hellmouth," Giles said, smiling sadly. "You did well. You could have drawn the pentagram sooner, but—"

"I didn't know if it was safe," Xander explained.

"You didn't need my hint," Giles said, his voice tinged with surprise. "As long as you draw it clockwise, one point upwards, a pentagram is always safe."

"I got your hint," Xander said, "halfway through. Next time, make it easier."

"Something to work on," Giles said, smiling, then knelt down, tracing the runes. "Hmm, fascinating."

* * *

"What happened?" Willow said, half standing as Xander followed Giles into the library.

"Long story," Buffy said, putting Fritz's computer down on the counter. "Don't ask."

Willow took two steps towards Xander, paused, looking uncertain, then started pulling out chairs for people to sit on.

"Those aren't your clothes," Cordelia said, eyeing Xander. "The size, the style — a man in his late thirties. Dave's dad?"

"Fritz's" Xander said. "The herald caught us. We escaped."

Then he smiled reassuringly at Willow. "Just another fun day on the hell mouth."

"How did you lose your clothes?" Cordelia asked suspiciously. "Did the herald try seducing you?"

Willow froze, fear plain on her face.

"Cordy!" Xander said sharply.

Dave half-smiled, muttering under his breath.

"What?" Cordelia protested. "We know it's been using succubi, and it's into—"

"Some things should remain private," Giles said firmly, picking up the pile of papers in front of Willow, "but the answer is no. This the summary description I asked for? It looks … comprehensive."

Cordelia glanced sideways at Willow, then shrugged apologetically at Xander.

"Dave helped," Willow said automatically, her voice thick with worry. "What did happen?"

"I kept it short and simple," Cordelia said brightly, glaring at Willow. "Giles does not need to know the plot of some silly story. Mr Slippery, sounds like a talking snake."

Xander sighed. Cordelia meant well, but that was not a good way to distract Willow.

"True Names isn't silly," Willow said. "It's a great story, which shows how cyberspace metaphorically works just like magic, and you're trying to change the subject, aren't you? Tell me what happened. Not telling will just make me more worried."

Xander looked at Willow, worry and determination mingling on her face, then forced himself to smile. "Ms Calendar was having too much fun with her twisted mind games to actually do anything."

Willow nodded, accepting the lie. "And she stripped you to establish psychological dominance?"

"She did," Giles confirmed, looking meaningfully at Buffy. "But that wasn't the herald's real plot.

"She turned Fritz into a giant demon," Buffy said. "Giles, why did the Master say it was—"

"The Master?" Cordelia interrupted. "Is he working with the herald?"

"No," Xander said. "He's got some grudge against it. He offered to help us."

Cordelia stared. "Tell us the whole story, from the beginning."

"When we got to Dave's house," Xander began, while Giles started skimming through Willow's notes.

"And then we came back here," Xander finished, five minutes and several interruptions later.

"An accurate summary," Giles said, putting Willow's notes down, "apart from one thing. That trap wasn't intended for us. It was intended for Dave, or so Jenny and Fritz thought. The hidden spell required nine moments of utter despair, six acts of treachery, and three deaths."

"They were all supposed to die. But—" Willow began.

"The herald is the real enemy," Cordelia said, overriding Willow. "It thinks all its puppets are expendable."

"But I went off script?" Dave said, smiling faintly.

Giles nodded. "It hadn't accounted for the protections on this library. I'm not entirely sure what its original plan was, but everything it did after we arrived was desperate improvisation. If everything had gone according to plan, all the runes would have lit up."

"Let me guess," Xander said, smiling. "The world would have ended."

"Nothing so merciful."

"What did the spell actually do?" Buffy said, shifting impatiently. "Can we stop it?"

"It definitely teleported the demon, and I'm pretty sure it has created a psychic miasma, which will strengthen any other spells it attempts in this town over the next few days."

"You didn't translate it all?" Willow said, looking disappointed.

"Staying any longer in that room would not have been healthy," Giles replied, then looked at Buffy. "You did well with the Master. Without his intervention, we would have died escaping, and our deaths would have ripped the death gate wide open."

"Lucky us," Buffy said sarcastically. "What about Fritz?"

"Wherever he, um she is, she's going to start spreading her eggs through the water supply. Modern water treatment should kill them…." Giles trailed off, thinking.

"Giles," Cordelia said sharply. "We're not watchers. Why do her eggs matter?"

"If you swallow one, there's a one in twenty chance when it hatches that it'll eat your brain and take over your body, transforming it into a full succubus, or incubus. The rest of the time, the parasite encysts itself. There are no visible symptoms of infection, but the victims' … carnal activities still fuel the hive's magic, and it can look through their eyes."

"So we kill the queen." Buffy said.

"No, do that and one of the parasites will metamorphose into a new queen. We have to kill the rest of the hive first, and quickly. It is not work for a slayer."

But most of the rest of the hive were still —

Xander shuddered, realising what Giles meant. If there wasn't any magic cure for the parasites, and it didn't sound like there was, the watchers would need to kill everyone they thought was infected, but with no easy way to detect the parasites, innocent people might die. There was no way they could ask Buffy to do that.

"Why not?" Buffy asked.

"Can you kill the parasites without killing the hosts?" Willow asked uncertainly. "If you can't then you'd have to—"

"That's the problem," Giles said quickly, looking at Buffy, "but it's not our problem. We can't leave the hellmouth to go chasing demons. I'll — of course! Lakes. If Fritz contaminates a lake where people swim, she can bypass the water treatment works."

"And he's smart," Dave said.

"I hope not," Giles said. "If his mind survived, it's trapped in the body of a mindless beast. Lillisian succubi are smart enough, and the collective intelligence of their hive mind is considerable, but the queens are just egg-laying machines. The spell selected the lair, not Fritz. I'll—"

In Giles's office, the phone rang.

"—inform my contacts," he said, standing up.

Willow scowled as Giles went into his office. "There has to be a better way."

* * *

"Most people ignore 'No Swimming' signs," Cordelia said, then paused as the office door opened. "Now what?"

"Bad news. That was our friend in yellow."

Xander half-smiled. He hadn't noticed anything, but Cordelia had had a lot more practice reading Giles.

"Who?" Buffy asked.

"Remember the first night with Dame Margo? The demon in the graveyard?"

Dave leaned forward, looking attentive.

"And the man who killed a baby, right in front of us," Buffy finished. "He working for the abomination now?"

"Against it."

Xander looked sharply at Giles. "It really knows how to make enemies and infuriate people, doesn't it?"

"They're evil," Cordelia said, with exaggerated patience. "Of course they're going to stab each other in the back. That's what evil does."

"Unfortunately," Giles said, "it seems the herald planned for that."

"It would," Buffy said sourly. "How?"

"Our friend in yellow—"

"Doesn't he have a name?" Cordelia asked, "and his robes were mustard."

"He wouldn't give one," Giles said. "Mustard told me the abomination is planning another apocalyptic ritual, this time using the employees at Calax. I have to investigate, but while we're doing that, it can set up more threats, keeping us too busy to stop its real plan."

"Everything we just went through was a diversion?" Xander said slowly. Everything he'd been through had just been a way of buying the herald in Moloch a few extra hours?

"No," Giles said quickly. "We saved the world today."

"We did?" Xander said, then smiled. "How many times is that now?"

Dave glanced at Xander, his eyebrows raised.

"Five?" Willow nodded thoughtfully. "You cut one head off the hydra. Now you have to burn the stump."

"How?" Cordelia sat simply.

"The herald is apparently planning to summon and bind Xochiquetzal, an Aztec fertility goddess, at sunset. There are four of us uninfected by the herald, so we'll split into two pairs."

"Giles," Willow said tentatively. "The net is global. What if—"

"It's being sadistic," Cordelia said. "Only using one plot at a time, so we think we've got a chance, but that's self-defeating."

"It's too smart to be that stupid," Willow said. "I think. Um, what if the herald is expendable because the abomination is planning something bigger."

Giles sighed. "Willow, we hardly need to go looking for trouble."

"It comes looking for us," Xander added. "Isn't the hell mouth wonderful?"

Cordelia looked at Giles. "What pairs?"

"I will accompany Buffy—"

"You—" Cordelia began, looking disbelieving.

"I am the only one of us who would not be a liability in combat," Giles said, "and exorcism is not difficult, nor does Willow's explanation of cyberspace suggest any complications, Xander has already done it once before, and you've both have the necessary moral standing, Willow, Dave; you'll both have to stay in the office."

Dave shrugged. "There's nothing I could do even if I weren't infected, not like you. Just listening to you … you all take so much for granted but, saving the world five times? I want to help, but …."

"You have helped," Buffy said as Dave trailed off. "Without you, we wouldn't know about this herald yet."

Then she turned to face Giles. "What do we do?"

* * *

"—Fit enough" Xander said, picking the phone up.

"They're definitely attempting a divine summoning," Giles said. "You remember the plan?"

"Yes. We've got everything ready. How long?"

"Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Be careful with Moloch."

"OK," Xander said, then smiled. "Don't forget the pizzas on the way back."

"Pizzas?"

"For the victory party."

"That's the spirit," Giles said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Um, how do I turn this thing off?".

Xander listened a moment as Giles struggled with the cell phone, then turned to face the others. "OK, we've got fifteen minutes."

"You remember everything?" Willow asked nervously.

"Keep Moloch talking," Cordelia said, unplugging the phone.

Xander nodded. The actual exorcism would only take a couple of minutes, but letting Moloch rant first would make it much easier.

"And you're sure it's OK to lock us both in the same room?" Dave asked, for the fourth time. "You won't be able to hear any screams. Giles said the soundproofing spell works both ways."

"Yes," Cordelia said sharply. "Giles told you: the herald might have planted time bombs in your minds, but it can't have anticipated anything like this. As long as it can't phone you with new instruction—"

"I still think you should tie us up," Dave insisted.

"He wants to be tied up by an attractive woman," Xander said, smiling at Cordelia. "Sounds like a classic case of abominable heralditis."

"It's not like that," Dave protested, blushing.

"Then shut up," Cordelia said, scooping up the phone.

Xander watched appreciatively as she stalked out of the office, then looked at Willow. "You'll be OK?"

She nodded. "Go."

"Xander!" Cordelia shouted.

He hurried out into the main library, closing the door behind him.

Cordelia locked it, then leaned against the wall. "Did you hear what Giles didn't say?"

Xander stared at her, confused.

"You've got to learn to read between the lines. He was reminding us about the oath, which he's said before will help us do good magic. We can't—"

"Don't jinx us," Xander said quickly. "Let's get started."

Cordelia took a deep breath, the strode confidently over to Fritz's computer. "OK. Step one, get Moloch's attention."

* * *

"Come, Moloch, we command you," Xander typed, two minutes later.

"In the name of the innocent, we summon you," Cordelia said, lighting the last candle, "to face justice. Come!"

Xander pressed the enter key.

"Fools," Moloch sneered, appearing on the computer screen, wrapped in chains. "Look upon me, and learn the magnitude of your folly."

"Doesn't look much like his picture, does he?" Xander said lightly, hoping Moloch wouldn't notice his surprise. Giles had been very clear about not showing any weaknesses.

Moloch did look a lot worse than the pictures had shown though, his face dotted with open sores, his nose a mangled wreck, maggots writhing in the festering ruin of his left eye.

"Bad day?" Cordelia suggested, seemingly unruffled.

"Terrible beyond your puny comprehension," Moloch said. "I have been chained by an herald of abomination, subjected to tortures almost beyond endurance."

"Been there, done that," Xander said, glancing at the chains, then winced.

The chains were covered in a myriad barbs, constantly ripping at Moloch's flesh as they moved, and each link was carved in the shape of a naked woman, her body contorted into a circle, a tentacled beast mounted on her back, its tentacles penetrating-

Xander blinked. He shouldn't be able to see so much detail, not on a computer screen, but he could. He could see the beasts shrieking as they gouged Moloch's flesh with their barbed horns, and the tortured expressions of the women, caught between agony and ecstasy. He could even see the maggot-ridden ulcers festering on the beasts' flanks, and make out individual drops of blood on the women's skin, each with a screaming male figure trapped within, struggling in vain as-

"Xander," Cordelia said sharply, tapping his shoulder. "Look at me."

He looked at her, her face still pale with horror, and forced a smile. "We've seen worse, Moloch. You won't frighten—"

"Fool!" Moloch shouted. "Do you think I would so chain myself?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Not when you just said the herald did it, but they're only symbolic You can't frighten us with—"

"They are symbolic," Moloch said, "and yet they are real, as are all things in this place. These chains are forged from countless souls, locked in an infinite regress of suffering, They are the work of the abomination beyond the wall."

"We guessed," Xander said, carefully focusing on Moloch's remaining eye, so the magic couldn't suck him in. "The kinkiness was a big clue."

"But you're trying to use them against us," Cordelia added. "You're trying to frighten us. It won't work."

"Next he'll say it was just a test, and offer to help us against the abomination," Xander guessed. "Everything else has."

"Would that I could," Moloch said, rattling his chains. "Would that I could, but that is a forlorn hope. I am caught in the abomination's web, thanks to your machinations, Cordelia Chase. By your actions it was freed. When you look upon its handiworks, remember that."

"I had nothing to do with it," Cordelia said firmly. "You lie."

Moloch laughed. "How little you know. Your teacher probed the future with her home-made cards, and saw what she would become, but she only succumbed because the abomination reached out of that future to taint her."

Xander frowned. "That's a paradox."

"So it seems, for we who are bound by time," Moloch said, "but the ultimate enemy dwells beyond time. For it, and its true minions, causal loops are a triviality."

"Still nothing to do with me," Cordelia said.

"Do you not see? By crossing time, you threw the future into flux and shook the universe to its foundations, weakening all barriers. You, Cordelia Chase, cracked the wall behind which the abomination lurks, only an hairline fracture, fast healing, but that was enough to doom us all."

"He's lying," Xander said quickly. "Don't listen to him."

"No," Cordelia said, looking pensive. "We can't assume that. What if he tells us something true, just so he can laugh at us for not believing him?"

"Don't give him ideas, Cordy," Xander said, glancing surreptitiously at the clock, still ten minutes to the deadline.

They wouldn't wait that long, of course. Waiting a few minutes before the exorcism gave Moloch a chance to rant, which Giles had said would help, but they didn't need to wait the full ten. When the time was right, they would strike.

"I hardly need lessons in guile from a mere human," Moloch said contemptuously,

"Really?" Cordelia said, smiling. "If it was me, why did it take so long. You said the crack was healing."

Then she looked at Xander. "If he tries tricking us, we pick holes in his stories. It won't be hard."

Xander smiled at her direct appeal to pride. Giles had warned them that was Moloch's greatest weakness, and theirs. If they got overconfident, Moloch would twist them round its little finger, but if Moloch did, he would start making mistakes.

Unfortunately, the herald riding Moloch complicated everything. Giles had tried explaining what that meant for their strategy, but Xander had been lost after five words. Cordelia had seemed to understand though, so as long as he followed her lead everything should be fine.

"You arrival alone was not enough," Moloch said grudgingly, "but it was the indirect cause of the deathgate opening. The additional damage that caused, combined with the steady increase in the power of the hellmouth, were just barely enough to give the abomination its opportunity, an opportunity it would not have had, were it not for you."

"So what?" Cordelia said, looking at her nails. "Even if that's true—"

"So what?" Moloch shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "A trillion trillion souls shall perish in the storm you have engendered, and—"

"There aren't that many people in the world," Xander pointed out.

"Precisely," Moloch said, "but I see you do not grasp the scale of the war in which we are enmeshed."

"The abomination won't stop with Earth?" Cordelia guessed.

"It will not stop with the Earth you know," Moloch said. "The abomination is not as us, nor even as its herald. When the world divides, we divide, each of our alternate selves taking a different path. The abomination remains one, walking all paths at once. If any should lead to its freedom, it would slowly ravage all the Earth's that might be, every last branch of this tree of histories succumbing to its blight."

"You mean else-worlds," Xander said, "like in the comics?"

"A pale shadow," Moloch said, "but it will serve. Now do you see the depths of your folly? The abomination's plans span all the worlds that might be, and you think it cares whether one of its facets is freed to walk a doomed world? You chase shadow puppets while its true plot unfolds. "

"You're trying to make us feel insignificant, aren't you," Cordelia said, smiling. "It won't work."

Xander nodded. Cordelia had too much pride for that to work, and he was used to it. Willow was so much smarter than him, Buffy so much stronger, even Cordelia had her foreknowledge, but he didn't let that get him down. What little he could do might not seem significant, but it still mattered.

Moloch laughed. "Trying? I have not yet begun. Mighty though the abomination and its peers are, their power feared even by gods, in the great war they are no more than bullets, fired between realities. Thirteen have pierced this cosmos, thirteen viruses brewed in the court of oblivion to subvert—"

"Nonsense," Cordelia said. "Bullets don't have names. The abomination does."

"Such ignorance," Moloch sneered. "That is not a personal name. It is a class of ammunition, no, not even that. It is no more than the name of a role that particular type of virus can play. The legions of the whisperers in darkness are beyond counting, literally, and every single one of them could play the part of the abomination, turning life's yearning to multiply against itself.

"That's why it's so into depravity?" Cordelia said, looking honestly surprised. "Irony?"

Moloch nodded. "There is a dark elegance to it, once the abomination's true purpose is understood. Like all whisperers, it desires only to negate all that could be. The thirteen differ only in their angle of approach, nothing more."

Xander glanced at the clock, then smiled. "Am I supposed to be impressed. I don't understand—"

"Then listen, fool," Moloch snapped, "and I will speak so plainly even you can comprehend. If the abomination succeeds, nothing will ever have existed in this universe, not even the abomination itself. Nor will there be any chance anything could ever have existed. Only the void shall remain, and Omega shall fill it with its own dark thoughts."

"One question," Cordelia said warily. "How do you know this?You've been half-dead the last thousand years, and before that—"

Have you forgotten, girl? The herald is riding my mind. When it acts through me, I can steal glimpses of its thoughts. Oh, the things I have seen …"

Cordelia looked meaningfully at Xander, who nodded. The herald controlled Moloch as completely as it had Ms Calender. If Moloch had seen into the herald's mind, that was only because it wanted him to, and it might just have faked the memories.

Why the herald would do that, Xander couldn't begin to guess, but it didn't matter. Giles had been very clear: if the herald showed its hand, they'd need to speed the plan up. Hopefully, he could make it sound natural.

"I don't care," Xander said, dismissing the demon's boasts. "It'll all be sick and twisted. Everything about you is. You bring only pain and death."

"I bring love," Moloch said, "my unconditional love."

Xander repressed a sigh. Giles had said it would help if they could get Moloch to start offering them wealth and power, but they'd have to work with what they had.

"You love us, all right," Cordelia said, "the way Harmony loves chocolate ice cream. That's not love, it's—"

"As close as you can get in this tainted world," Moloch said. "There is not one couple you can name who enjoy true love, for here it is but a myth. Do you even know anyone whose marriage could be called happy?"

"Of course," Xander said hotly. "There's, um, there's …."

He fell silent, thinking. His own parents certainly didn't count, Willow's were just going through the motions, Cordelia's dad seemed to be pure slime, but there had to be someone.

"How would we know?" Cordelia said scathingly. "They're not going to tell us about their relationship, are they?"

"But you are perceptive—"

"And if the stories lie, so what?" Cordelia went on, her voice growing bitter. "I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. Go looking for true love, and some man will rip out your heart and dance on it, but that doesn't mean we can't find some lasting happiness. There's no Mr Right, but there is Mr Good Enough."

Xander glanced sideways at Cordelia. That sounded like experience talking, but he'd have heard if anything like that had happened to her. The whole school would have, so she must be thinking about the other history, which did fit.

Some boy Cordelia trusted had hurt her or, since this was the hell mouth, some demon she thought was a boy. Yes, that would explain a lot.

A pity he couldn't just ask her outright, rather than playing guessing games, but she wouldn't like that, and now he knew, he wouldn't have to.

Cordelia glared at Moloch. "I thought you were trying to tempt us, not—"

"I am in chains," Moloch said. "I have nothing to offer save my love, but there is one who can offer more."

"Found religion, have you?" Cordelia sneered.

"Love in this world is as you describe it, Cordelia Chase," Moloch said, smiling beatifically. "Have you never wondered why?"

"Because people are people," Cordelia said.

"Because the shadow of the abomination lies upon this reality," Moloch replied. "Even bound, it has wormed its way into the metaphysical foundations of the cosmos, removing all possibility of true love. The best you can hope for is a tarnished facsimile, just another tawdry compromise on the road to oblivion, the best you can hope for, that is, unless you bow before the abomination. Acknowledge its superiority just once, and its taint will be withdrawn from your lives, leaving you free to dwell in eternal bliss with your soul's mate."

"How selfish do you think I am?" Xander blurted out, staring in shock at the demon. Didn't it understand people at all?

Cordelia looked at him, surprise giving way to contemplation.

"You would enjoy the happiness your labours have earned," Moloch said, "the happiness for which men have long yearned."

"How could I be happy when everyone else was suffering?" Xander asked rhetorically.

"You seem to manage well enough now," Moloch said. "Even as we speak, a woman in Chongqing is prostituting herself to feed her children, yet—"

"I didn't know that," Xander protested, "and there's nothing I can do about it, but getting the abomination to leave me alone would be wrong. It needs killing."

"A fool's dream," Moloch said, "but only a fool would let scruples deny them happiness."

"I wouldn't be happy," Xander said simply. He might enjoy himself some of the time, but everything would be shadowed by the knowledge that the abomination was messing up everyone else's life while he did nothing.

"Why not?" Moloch persisted. "You have no hope of freeing this reality from the abomination's stranglehold. Even if you could, the other twelve whisperers would still blight it. Banish them from all the worlds that might be, all the paths this reality could have taken, and still their countless brethren will feast on the suffering of man in the realities beyond, those sundered from us by more than mere history."

"I don't care," Xander said. "I will fight them as long as I can, and I will never surrender."

Cordelia nodded. "We're not for sale, period. You won't trap us into quibbling about the details of your offer."

Xander winced. He'd forgotten about that warning from Giles. If he'd started pointing out the loopholes in Moloch's offer, or saying it wasn't high enough, he would have effectively acknowledged that his soul was for sale, and that would have been suicide.

"Not even true love will tempt you?" Moloch asked, plaintively,

"No," Xander and Cordelia said, almost in unison.

Moloch looked at them both for a long moment, staring deep into their eyes, and then he laughed, heedless of the chains ripping at his flesh.

"Now I understand," he said. "Two soldiers, trapped far behind the battle line, huddle together in a foetid ditch, the enmity of ages set aside in the face of oblivion. Instantiations of greater powers, even in their last hours they are mighty, as gods to the gods. Out of the darkness, they have conjured hope. May they succeed, and teach the abomination despair."

The barbed chains wrapping Moloch tightened abruptly, gouging out chunks of bone as they writhed around him.

Moloch gasped in pain, then silently mouthed, "Free me."

Xander looked at Cordelia, who nodded, then they picked up Giles's notes.

Since they were in the right, all they really needed was determination. Moloch did not belong in the internet, or anywhere else on their world; tell him that firmly enough, and he would have to leave.

They couldn't just say 'Go away' though. To make that work, they'd have needed to be living saints. Instead, they needed to sound as imposing as they could, like a judge passing sentence, so Giles had left a few helpful suggestions, and some bits they could read in unison, for added effect.

"Don't forget: watch my cues, and take turns," Cordelia said softly, then pointed imperiously at the screen."

"Moloch, foul and accursed spawn of the elder days," Xander proclaimed on cue, not quite in sync with Cordelia. "Hear now our judgement."

Moloch yelped as the chains savaged his other eye, then silently mouthed, "Set me free."

"Time and again you have wronged the children of man," Cordelia said, every word clearly pronounced. "From their world, we banish you, now and for all time."

Moloch screamed as the chains yanked at his horns, ripping them out by the roots, then silently mouthed, "End this, please."

"The internet you have profaned," Xander said, pushing his voice deeper. "From it we banish you, from it and all the devices of man."

Moloch howled, his mouth distended inhumanly wide, as the chains surged down his throat, shredding his tongue, and then there was silence.

Xander shuddered. Giles had warned them that exorcism hurt the target, so they might need to harden their hearts against Moloch's screams, but he'd never mentioned anything like this. It must be more of the herald's work, more proof the abomination needed to be destroyed.

He couldn't kill it himself, of course, not unless it was badly overrated, but he would gladly help those who could send the abomination and all its like to the oblivion they worshipped. Some things belonged dead.

"Slave of the abomination beyond the wall, return now to your proper dominion, and go free," Cordelia improvised, her voice ringing with righteous fury, then signalled.

"Demon," Xander said, joining in the last bit. "Be gone!"

Smiling, Moloch vanished, leaving the chains wrapping only empty space.

Writhing furiously, they collapsed in on themselves, sucked into the void at their heart, until only darkness remained.

Xander looked uncertainly at Cordelia. With Moloch banished, the computer was supposed to have returned to normal.

The candles guttered out.

"Something is wrong," Cordelia said, watching the computer warily.

A voice came out of the darkness, a voice such as Xander had heard only once before, whispering in his shadow-spawned nightmares after the morgue. It spoke in a language he did not know, a language whose inhuman sounds filled him with exquisite pain, whose words stirred the darkness to shapes of mind-numbing terror, and yet, the meaning burned in his mind, as certain as death.

"Hear us, worms, and take heed," it said slowly, letting every word echo round the library. "We are the voice of the six-fold lord, That Which Dwells Beyond The Wall."

"The herald," Cordelia whispered, her voice unsteady. "and the Midnight Tongue. It's stronger than Giles thought."

"You have not harmed our lord's designs. All your efforts have been in vain."

"Not strong enough," Xander said, struggling to hide his fear. "We've got an handy guide to exorcisms right here."

There wasn't much chance it would work, but they had to try.

"Yet you have dared oppose us. For that crime alone, you shall be punished."

"It must be clinging to the internet by its fingernails," Cordelia said, her hand brushing against Xander's. "Together, we can beat it."

"Together," Xander echoed, then looked at Giles's notes, seeking inspiration.

"Together, we shall stand against the dark," he said, picking out phrases that sounded good. "Now and always. While we endure, it shall not conquer."

"The curse of our Lord is upon you. To your graves it shall pursue you, and beyond. Hear it now, and know despair."

"This is our world," Cordelia said, talking over the herald, though her faint voice could not obscure its words. "Flee it now, or face our righteous wrath."

"Ever the votaries of our Lord shall be drawn to you, from the least to the greatest. Though you pass beyond the circles of the world, you shall not escape them."

"This is our world," Xander said, following Cordelia's lead. "Flee it now, lest we shall call down the wrath of all creation upon your head."

"In our Lord's shadow you shall spend all your days, in darkness unending, until you crave the peace of oblivion, but it shall be denied you, until you willingly kneel before the silencer of all songs and pledge allegiance to the ultimate power."

"By the oaths I have sworn, this I vow," Cordelia said. "I shall fight against you and yours until the end of days, and step by step, I shall drive you back, until oblivion claims you."

Xander scowled at Giles's notes. There were plenty of grand-sounding phrases left, but they all described Moloch. Only a handful could fit the herald, and Cordelia had just used the last of them. He could copy her for the first half of his next threat, but for the rest, he would have to improvise.

"Upon all the lives you touch, the same curse shall fall, and upon all the lives they touch. Unto the thirteenth generation, Our Lord's wrath shall pursue them."

"By the oaths I have sworn, this I vow," Xander said. "I shall fight against you and yours until the end of days, and I shall not despair. Laughing, I shall drive you back, and your masters shall laugh to see you defeated, but the joke will be on them."

Cordelia nodded approvingly, a faint smile twitching her lips, then mouthed, "Together."

"So Our Lord —" the herald began, its tempo speeding up,

"Herald-," the two said together.

"—has decreed, so shall-

"of abomination—"

"—it be," the herald finished, even as Xander and Cordelia shouted "Begone!"

The darkness screamed, an howl of rage that shook the walls, and the room grew cold.

Xander half-ducked, one hand over his head, as plaster tumbled from the ceiling, then stiffened, feeling wetness seeping from his ears.

Blood? He gently dabbed at his cheek, then grimaced at the crimson smear on his fingers. Definitely blood, and his nose didn't feel right either.

Around the computer, frost condensed in a bone-white circle, steadily growing.

Cordelia scowled at the darkness, blood pouring from her eyes and nose.

"Sore loser," she shouted, her voice inaudible beneath the herald's scream.

Xander winced as the cold air sliced at his throat, blood filling his mouth and seeping from his eyes, then forced a smile.

"Try again," he mouthed, rustling the useless notes, barely legible beneath their mantle of frost.

The herald's scream shifted pitch, and the walls rippled, as if painted in cloth.

Ghostly images filled the air, images of other Xanders and Cordelias, differently dressed but facing down the same darkness, and beyond them, of other libraries in other places.

Cordelia nodded agreement, then paused and spat blood into her palm.

Mentally kicking himself, Xander spat into his own palm. Everyone knew about the power of blood.

Cordelia held out her blood-stained hand to him, reaching through their myriad reflections, and he clasped it tight, their blood mingling.

The darkness winked out.

For a moment, there was silence, pure and absolute, then Xander laughed. "We did it! We actually beat the herald!"

It couldn't harm Willow now. It couldn't harm anyone, because they'd sent it running home.

Cordelia smiled back at him, teeth gleaming in the red mask of her face, her hair solid white with frost, the very picture of beauty as she leaned towards him, but then she shook herself.

"Maybe," she said, shaking the ice from her hair. "And maybe that's what it wants us to think."

"You don't think it's gone?" Xander asked, carefully easing his hand out of Cordelia's. They hadn't used that much blood, but it was still sticky.

"No," Cordelia said. "That lie would get found out too quickly, but maybe it chose to go. It could have screamed like that any time, but it didn't. This may have all been as it planned."

"You had to spoil it, didn't you?" Xander scolded her, his smile belying his words. Maybe she was right, but it didn't matter. The herald was gone; that was victory enough.

"Only a guess," Cordelia said, smiling back. "I'm not going to try out-thinking the herald, not after Margo, but we do have to be careful. Try not to get too confident. "

"As if you'd ever let me get overconfident," Xander said, knocking the remaining frost off his clothes.

Cordelia tilted her head thoughtfully. "We're forgetting something."

"Willow!" Xander said, memory sparked. "She's still in the office."

"More important than that."

"Its curse?" Xander guessed. "It didn't finish it."

"Besides that," Cordelia said, then hesitated. "It didn't?"

"It was going to say 'now and always', right?"

"Optimistic, much?" Cordelia said, then smiled "But I think I remember seeing something somewhere about curses needing proper authority. Giles should know."

"We'll ask him, when he gets back," Xander said, unconcerned. The curse had sounded bad, but even if had worked, Giles would know a way to break it, and if he didn't, Margo had left them a small library of books on curses.

Cordelia nodded, frowning. "I'm still forgetting—"

Outside, something scraped against the wall.

"Moloch," Xander and Cordelia both said, looking at each other. Giles had told them he would take physical form when they banished him from the internet, appearing just outside the library wards, but they'd both forgotten.

"Can't let him get away," Xander said, rushing to the library's external door. Giles had said they didn't have to kill him themselves, but they couldn't let a demon wander round school grounds, and they'd already beaten him once.

"Xander," Cordelia said, running over to the counter. "The axes."

Xander spun on the spot, hurrying back to Cordelia. He wouldn't get very far trying to kill Moloch barehanded, even weakened from the exorcism; that was why Giles had left the axes out.

Snatching one up, he reversed direction again, racing across the library.

Cordelia followed just behind, muttering under her breath.

Xander shoved the door wide open, letting it bounce against the wall, and looked round the parking lot.

Cordelia tapped him on the shoulder, but he ignored her.

The cars were all over by the main staff entrance, too far away for Moloch to be hiding, and he couldn't be right behind the door.

Smiling, Xander looked along the wall, and spotted Moloch, slumped down.

"Looks like he's still hurting from what the herald did," Cordelia said, axe gripped firmly in both hands. "You do remember what Giles said?"

Moloch looked up at them, his eyes clouded, his horns broken, dark blood dribbling from a thousand wounds.

Xander hesitated. Moloch was a demon lord, responsible for countless deaths, but attacking anything so badly hurt felt wrong.

"You came," Moloch croaked, voice distorted by his swollen tongue. "Help me."

"You want our help?" Cordelia said, her voice ringing with scepticism.

Moloch tried to clamber upright, but his arm collapsed underneath him.

"Help me," he repeated, slowly crawling towards them, one leg dragging behind him. "So much … teach you … glorious … together … you can … worship you … show you … website …. children."

"Think he's trying to tempt us?" Xander asked.

Cordelia nodded. "Pathetic."

"Children," Moloch wheezed, collapsing at their feet. "Help me … can show you … so much. How to …"

Moloch spat out a wad of blood, then looked up at them, his face contorted in pain. "Can show you way … draw power from … ruining potential. … Youths are … expendable. … Use them …heal me … make yourself … as gods. … You deserve … no less. Would only take … a few children …."

Xander looked at Cordelia, her expression of disgust mirroring his own, and nodded.

Together, they struck down.

Moloch's head rolled five paces, broken horns scraping against the tarmac.

"That's the only help you're getting from us," Cordelia said. "A quick death."

Xander nodded, watching with grim satisfaction as the body crumbled away.

Cordelia smiled. "Before we let Willow out, you might want to clean yourself up."

"Why?" Xander said, walking back into the library. Willow had been shut in the office with Dave for too long already, waiting with mounting dread. So he had a little blood on him-

Well, more than a little. His entire face was covered in blood, drying tight on his skin, his right hand was bloodstained, with more blood dotting his clothes, and he was carrying an axe dripping dark blood. Willow wouldn't be glad to see him, she'd panic.

She'd forgive him a lot quicker than if he kept her waiting though.

"You really don't know Willow, do you?" Xander added, smiling. "You go clean up. I'll tell her the good news."

* * *

"You're sure the curse didn't take hold," Cordelia asked Giles, fifteen minutes later.

Xander listened intently, waiting for confirmation they were safe,

"Curses take more than spite." Giles said. "The herald lacked standing."

Relieved, Xander glanced round the library, Buffy and Willow were sat opposite him, talking about Calax, but Dave was still fiddling with Fritz's computer.

"That wasn't a no," Cordelia said, looking at Giles flatly.

Giles sighed. "If the curse had taken hold fully, you wouldn't have been able to get back in here. Dame Margo's wards would have stopped you."

"But?" Cordelia prompted.

"We know so little about the capabilities of an herald." Giles said patiently. "Unfortunately, it is possible that there may be some lingering taint. I will need to consult the books to be certain, and run a few tests, but if there is, there are ways of breaking unjust curses."

Satisfied, Xander tuned out that conversation.

"—but then the Calax people screamed, and the world went all wobbly," Buffy told Willow. "Their big spell fizzled, so no god."

"You saw that?" Xander asked. "I thought it was just us."

"Hardly," Giles said. "Everyone in the herald's coils felt it scream, and it was wrapped round the entire world."

"But Xander beat it," Willow said, smiling proudly.

"Hey," Cordelia snapped, glaring at her.

"We beat it together," Xander said soothingly.

"I still think—"

"Cordelia," Giles said patiently. "It doesn't matter if it was shamming. Either way, all past precedent suggests we will not see it again. What matters is that you never despaired."

"It'd have to get through Cordelia's pride first," Willow muttered softly, then glanced at Giles. "How much if what the herald told them was true?"

"Most of it will have been true, but—"

"Why," Buffy asked. "Why wouldn't it just lie."

"Lies can be found out," Giles said. "Slanted truths can be seen through. The greater evils prefer truths too dangerous to know. Xander, you mentioned it claimed even it was insignificant, in the true scheme of things."

Xander nodded. "It was trying to undermine our confidence."

"Not quite," Giles corrected. "Oh, it would have been pleased had you crumpled, but the herald was playing the long game. Every time you wonder if you can make a difference, its word will be niggling at the back of your mind, adding to your doubts."

"The last straw," Willow said. "How do we stop it?"

"Don't take too much weight on your shoulders. Trust that others will share the burden."

Xander glanced uncertainly at Cordelia. He could do that easily enough. Being the only one with nothing special to offer rankled sometimes, but at least he was used to relying on people. Cordelia, though, had pride issues.

Cordelia looked at Willow and Buffy, her expression tinged with doubt, then shrugged. "I'm not sure it was actually talking to us anyway. Some of the things it said … There are lots of real gods, aren't there."

"And some of them will have been watching," Giles said cautiously. "The herald might well have been addressing them too, but its words would still have been precisely calculated to harm you."

"Cheerful, aren't you?" Buffy said, looking round the table. "We won."

"But not without cost," Giles said, then smiled. "Still, the good should be celebrated. I didn't bring any pizza back, but I do have a few things in my office cupboard."

"Let me guess," Xander said, watching as Giles stood up. "A nice cup of tea?"

Dave looked up. "He keeps the teapot out on a shelf. It's china."

Cordelia glanced at him, looking faintly surprised. "Decided to join us, have you?"

"Willow," Dave said. "This computer has been through rapid temperature changes, and water exposure. Should it still be working?"

"Not really," Willow said. "If it got as cold as they said, the motherboard should have cracked, but—"

"Giles said it was clean," Cordelia reminded them. "What's your point."

"He said untainted," Dave corrected. "He doesn't understand computers."

Dave paused, swallowing nervously. "I've not been joining in because I'm not one of you. I'm not brave enough to fight demons and gods, but if there is anything I can do, I will do it, and there is. This computer smells suspicious to me, so I'm checking it out. You go and have your fun."

"You underestimate yourself," Giles said, coming back out of his office, carrying a large tin, six stacked glasses, and a bottle of wine.

"I do?" Dave said. "Um, is that wine for them?"

"You're not children," Giles said. "Dave, you discovered today that your mind has been violated by an abomination even gods fear, and that there was nothing you could do about it. I have known strong men collapse into despair with far less excuse than that, but you have endured, and now you're looking for a way to help us. The only difference between you and Xander is that he was in the right place at the right time."

Dave smiled, clearly unconvinced.

"You're serving us wine?" Cordelia said, ignoring Dave completely.

"If you want soft drinks, you'll have to go to the vending machine, but after what we've all been through today, one small glass of wine seems fitting."

"To toast victory?" Buffy said, taking the drinking glasses off Giles.

"And remember the cost," Giles answered, putting the tin down. "You've all been through a psychological ordeal—"

"Even Buffy?" Cordelia asked.

"The Calax staff were possessed," Buffy said, here eyes shadowed. "I had to hurt them badly to make them stay down, and they were all human."

"How badly?" Xander asked warily, reaching over to open the tin. "Cookies?"

"Scottish shortbread," Giles said. "Buffy, you don't—"

"Shattered knees," Buffy said, as Giles poured her a drink. "Broken ribs, some total knock outs. We called an ambulance, but … I just don't know."

"I'm sure they'll all live," Giles sat, his hand reaching out as if to pat Buffy, then falling back.

"That's why you've brought the wine out?" Willow said, putting a consoling arm round Buffy. "You think it'll help."

"No," Giles said. "Talking helps. Alcohol just makes talking easier."

In England, perhaps, but they were all so stiff. Xander didn't need any help to talk to his friends about anything. Telling them about how he had been tortured by a woman wearing Willow's face wouldn't be a problem; he could do it at time he liked, really.

Of course, while he didn't need the wine, not one bit, it'd be rude to turn it down.

Silently, Xander held out a glass for Giles.

"Margo have the same idea?" Cordelia said, tapping her glass meaningfully.

"Accepted practice," Giles said. "Some of the things you've experienced are not safe to talk about, but nothing that happened today was quite in that category. It may do us all good to quietly talk with people who understand what we've been through, and there aren't many of those outside this room."

"Not a drunken party, then," Xander said, looking meaningfully at Willow.

"Definitely not," Giles said. "In a couple of hours, we might want to move somewhere more lively, but I will not let you overdo it."

"You might want that drink now, Mr Giles," Dave said. "I've found the log files."

"The what?" Giles asked, turning to look.

"Partial records of what Moloch was doing. He set up thousands of, um, well, it's complicated, but three are now thousands of copies of his guide to black magic online now, with protective measures to stop them being deleted, and that's just what the herald let us know about."

"That could be annoying," Giles said, "but it isn't urgent. Take a break, and join us. You need this too."

"You're just going to—" Willow began, looking betrayed.

"Most people will assume it's not real," Giles said. "It will take time for word to spread."

Cordelia nodded. "There are other loose ends too, we don't know who scanned Moloch or how the herald got involved, but that can all wait."

Xander frowned. Cordelia was stretching the truth again: while they didn't _know_ how the herald had become involved, what it had said through Moloch was probably true. Giles had confirmed that. If it really was the truth, Cordelia would have to tell everyone, but she'd not want to do that if she could avoid it. Until then Xander would once again be stuck protecting secrets that really ought to be shared, thanks to Margo and her magically binding promises.

Xander took a quick drink of wine, better-tasting than the cheap bear he'd managed to try once, then smiled broadly.

"That's right," he said. "We can deal with tomorrow, tomorrow."

It wouldn't be easy, life on the hell mouth never was, but they'd already faced the worst there was. Things could only get better.


End file.
